UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


THE    LIFE 

or 

GEORGE   WASHINGTON; 

WITH 

CUKIOUS  ANECDOTES, 

EQUALLY  HONOURABLE  TO  HIMSELF, 

AND 

•  XE-MPLARY  TO  HIS  YOUNG  COUNTRYMEH 


A  life  how  useful  to  bis  country  led  I 
How  loved  while  living!  how  revered  now  dead  I 
Lispl  lisp  his  name,  ye  children  yet  unborn! 
And  with  like  deeds  your  own  great  names  adorn. 


toitfc  Si* 


BY  M.  L.  WEEMS, 

FORMERLY  RECTOR   OF   MOUNT  VERNON  PARISH. 


The  author  has  treated  this  great  subject  with  admirable  "  sucOMa  in  «  new 
way.  He  turns  all  the  actions  of  Washington  to  the  encouragement  of  virtu* 
by  a  careful  application  of  numerous  exemplification!  drawn  from  the  conduct 
of  the  founder  of  our  Republic  from  his  earliest  life." — II.  Lu,  Major  General, 
U.  S.  Army, 


PHILADELPHIA : 
J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1877. 


THE  LIFE 


in 

«  o» 


WASHINGTON. 

)— 

\ 


CHAPTER  I. 

OH  !  as  along  the  stream  of  time  thy  name 
Expanded  flies,  and  gathers  all  its  fame  ; 
May  then  these  lines  to  future  days  descend, 
And  prove  thy  COUNTRY'S  good  thine  only  end  ! 

"An,  gentlemen!"  —  exclaimed  Bonaparte  —  'twas 
just  as  he  was  about  to  embark  for  Egypt  —  some 
young  Americans  happening  at  Toulon,  and  anxious 
to  see  the  mighty  Corsican,  had  obtained  the  honour 
of  an  introduction  to  him.  Scarcely  were  past  the 
customary  salutations,  when  he  eagerly  asked,  "  how 
faresyourcountryman,  the  great  WASHINGTON?"  "He 
was  very  well,"  replied  the  youths,  brightening  at  the 
thought,  that  they  were  the  countrymen  of  Washing- 
ton ;  "  he  was  very  well,  general,  when  we  left  Ame- 
rica." —  «  Ah,  gentlemen  !"  rejoined  he,  "Washington 
can  never  be  otherwise  than  well.  —  The  measure  of 
his  fame  is  full.  —  Posterity  will  talk  of  him  with  re- 
verence as  the  founder  of  a  great  empire,  when  my 
name  shall  be  lost  in  the  vortex  of  Revolutions  !" 

Who,  then,  that  has  a  spark  of  virtuous  curiosity, 
but  must  wish  to  know  the  history  of  him  whose 
name  could  thus  awaken  the  sigh  even  of  Bonaparte? 
But  is  not  his  histury  already  known  ?  Have  not  a 

' 


240455 


6  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

thousand  orators  spread  his  fame  abroad,  bright  as 
his  own  Potomac,  when  he  reflects  the  morning  sun, 
and  flames  like  a  sea  of  liquid  gold,  the  wonder  and 
delight  of  all  the  neighbouring  shores  ?  Yes,  they 
have  indeed  spread  his  fame  abroad.  ...  his  fame  as 
Generalissimo  of  the  armies,  and  first  President  of 
the  councils  of  his  nation.  But  this  is  not  half  his 

fame True,  he  has  been  seen  in  greatness :  but  it  is 

only  the  greatness  of  public  character,  which  is  no 
evidence  of  true  greatness ;  for  a  public  character  is 
often  an  artificial  one.  At  the  head  of  an  army  or 
nation,  where  gold  and  glory  are  at  stake,  and  where 
a  man  feels  himself  the  burning  focus  of  unnum- 
bered eyes ;  he  must  be  a  paltry  fellow,  indeed,  who 

does  not  play  his  part  pretty  handsomely even  the 

common  passions  of  pride,  avarice,  or  ambition,  will 
put  him  up  to  his  mettle,  and  call  forth  his  best  and 
bravest  doings.  But  let  this  heat  and  blaze  of  public 
situation  and  incitement  be  withdrawn;  let  him  be 
thrust  back  into  the  shade  of  private  life ;  and  you 
shah  see  how  soon,  like  a  forced  plant  robbed  of  its 
hot-bed,  he  will  drop  his  false  foliage  and  fruit,  and 
stand  forth  confessed  in  native  stickweed  sterility 
and  worthlessness. — There  was  Benedict  Arnold — 
while  strutting  a  BRIGADIER  GENERAL  on  the  public 
state,  he  could  play  you  the  great  man,  on  a  handsome 

scale he  out-marched  Hannibal,  and  out-fought 

Burgoyne he  chased  the  British  like  curlews,  or 

cooped  them  up  like  chickens  !  and  yet  in  the  private 
walks  of  life,  in  Philadelphia,  he  could  swindle  rum 
from  the  commissary's  stores,  and,  with  the  aid  of 
loose  women,  retail  it  by  the  gill ! ! — And  there  was 
the  great  duke  of  Marlborough  too — his  public  cha- 
racter, a  thunderbolt  in  war  !  Britian's  boast,  and  the 
terror  of  the  French  !  But  his  private  character, 
what?  Why  a  swindler  to  whom  Arnold's  self  could 
hold  a  candle ;  a  perfect  nondescript  of  baseness ;  a 
shaver  of  farthings  from  the  poor  sixpenny  pay  of 
his  own  brave  soldiers  ! ! 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  7 

It  is  not,  then,  in  the  glare  of  public,  but  in  the. 
shade  of  private  life,  that  we  are  to  look  for  the  man. 
Private  life,  is  always  real  life.  Behind  the  curtain, 
where  the  eyes  of  the  million  are  not  upon  him,  and 
where  a  man  can  have  no  motive  but  inclination,  no 
incitement  but  honest  nature,  there  he  will  always 
be  sure  to  act  himself:  consequently,  if  he  act  greatly, 
he  must  be  great  indeed.  Hence  it  has  been  justly 
said,  that,  "  our  private  deeds,  if  noble,  are  noblest  of 
our  lives." 

Of  these  private  deeds  of  Washington  very  little 
has  been  said.  In  most  of  the  elegant  orations  pro- 
nounced to  his  praise,  you  see  nothing  of  Washing- 
ton below  the  clouds — nothing  of  Washington  the 
dutiful  son — the  affectionate  brother — the  cheerful 
school-boy — the  diligent  surveyor — the  neat  drafts- 
man— the  laborious  farmer — the  widow's  husband — 
the  orphan's  father — the  poor  man's  friend.  No ! 
this  is  not  the  Washington  you  see ;  'tis  only  Wash- 
ington, the  HERO,  and  the  Demigod — Washington 
the  sun-beam  in  council,  or  the  storm  in  war. 

And  in  all  the  ensigns  of  character  amidst  which 
he  is  generally  drawn,  you  see  none  that  represent 
him  what  he  really  was,  "  the  Jupiter  Conservator," 
the  friend  and  benefactor  of  men.  Where's  his  bright 
ploughshare  that  he  loved — or  his  wheat -crowned 
fields,  waving  in  yellow  ridges  before  the  wanton 
breeze — or  his  hills  whitened  over  with  flocks — or 
his  clover  covered  pastures  spread  with  innumerous 
herds — or  his  neat-clad  servants  with  songs  rolling 
the  heavy  harvest  before  them?  Such  were  the  scenes 
of  peace,plenty,  and  happiness,  in  which  Washington 
delighted.  But  his  eulogists  have  denied  him  these, 
the  only  scenes  which  belong  to  man  the  GREAT  ; 
and  have  trick'd  him  up  in  the  vile  drapery  of  man 
the  little.  See  !  there  he  stands !  with  the.  port  of 
Mars  "  the  destroyer,''  dark  frowning  over  the  fields 
of  war — the  lightning  of  Potter's  blade  is  by  Ins  side 
— the  deep-mouthed  cannon  is  before  him,  disgorg- 

1* 


6  LIPE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

ing  its  flesh-mangling  balls — his  war-horse  pants 
with  impatience  to  bear  him,  a  speedy  thunderbolt, 
against  the  pale  and  bleeding  ranks  of  Britain ! — 
These  are  the  drawings  usually  given  of  Washington; 
drawings  masterly  no  doubt,  and  perhaps  justly 
descriptive  of  him  in  some  scenes  of  his  life.  But 
scenes  they  were,  which  I  am  sure  his  soul  abhorred, 
and  in  which,  at  any  rate,  you  see  nothing  of  his 
private  virtues.  These  old  fashioned  commodities 
are  generally  thrown  into  the  back  ground  of  the 
picture;  and  treated,  as  the  grandees  at  the  London 
and  Paris  routs,  treat  their  good  old  aunts  and  grand- 
mothers, huddling  them  together  into  the  back  rooms, 
there  to  wheeze  and  cough  by  themselves,  and  not 
depress  the  fine  laudanum-raised  spirits  of  the  young 
sparklers.  And  yet  it  was  to  those  old  fashioned  vir- 
tues that  our  hero  owed  every  thing.  For  they  in 
fact  were  the  food  of  the  great  actions  of  him,  whom 
men  call  Washington.  It  was  they  that  enabled  him, 
first  to  triumph  over  himself;  then  over  the  British  ; 
and  uniformly  to  set  such  bright  examples  of  human 
perfectibility  and  true  greatness,  that,  compared  there- 
with, the  history  of  his  capturing  Cornwallis  and 
Tarleton,  with  their  buccaneering  legions,  sounds 
almost  as  small  as  the  story  of  General  Putnam's 
catching  his  wolf  and  her  lamb-killing  whelps. 

Since  then  it  is  the  private  virtues  that  (ay  the 
foundation  of  all  human  excellence — since  it  was 
these  that  exalted  Washington  to  be  "  Columbia's 
first  and  greatest  Son,"  be  it  our  first  care  to  present 
these,  in  all  their  lustre,  before  the  admiring  eyes 
of  our  children.  To  them  his  private  character  is 
every  thing  ;  his  public,  hardly  any  thing.  For  how 
glorious  soever  it  may  have  been  in  Washington  to 
have  undertaken  the  emancipation  of  his  country ; 
to  have  stemmed  the  long  tide  of  adversity ;  to  have 
baffled  every  effort  of  a  wealthy  and  warlike  nation; 
to  have  obtained  for  his  countrymen  the  completes! 
victory,  and  for  himself  the  most  unbounded  power  . 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  9 

and  then  to  have  returned  that  power,  accompanied 
with  all  the  weight  of  his  own  great  character  and 
advice  to  establish  a  government  that  should  immor- 
talize the  blessings  of  liberty — however  glorious,  1 
say,  all  this  may  have  been  to  himself,  or  instructive 
to  future  generals  and  presidents,  yet  does  it  but 
little  concern  our  children.  For  who  among  us  can 
hope  that  his  son  shall  ever  be  called,  like  Washing- 
ton, to  direct  the  storm  of  war,  or  to  ravish  the  ears 
of  deeply  listening  Senates  ?  To  be  constantly  placing 
him  then,  before  our  children,  in  this  high  character, 
what  is  it  but  like  springing  in  the  clouds  a  golden 
Phoenix,  which  no  mortal  calibre  can  ever  hope  to 
reach  ?  Or  like  setting  pictures  of  the  Mammoth 
before  the  mice,  whom  "not  all  the  manna  of  Heaven" 
can  ever  raise  to  equality  ?  Oh  no  !  give  us  his  pri- 
vate virtues  !  In  these,  every  youth  is  interested,  be- 
cause in  these  every  youth  may  become  a  Washing- 
ton— a  Washington  in  piety  and  patriotism, — in  in- 
dustry and  honour — and  consequently  a  Washington, 
in  what  alone  deserves  the  name,  SELF  ESTEEM  and 

UNIVERSAL  RESPECT. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BIRTH    AND    EDUCATION. 

"  Children  like  tender  osiers  take  the  bow ; 
"  And  as  they  first  are  form'd,  forever  grow." 

To  this  day  numbers  of  good  Christians  can  hardly 
find  faith  to  believe  that  Washington  was,  bona  fide, 
a  Virginian  !  "  What !  a  buckskin  !  say  they  with  a 
smile.  "  George  Washington  a  buckskin  !  pshaw  ! 
impossible!  he  was  certainly  an  European:  So 
great  a  man  could  never  have  been  born  in  America." 

So  great  a  man  could  never  have  been  born  in 


10  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

America ! — why  that's  the  very  prince  of  reasons 
why  he  should  have  been  born  here  !  Nature,  we 
know,  is  fond  of  harmonies ;  and  paria  paribus,  that 
is,  great  things  to  great,  is  the  rule  she  delights  to 
work  by.  Where,  for  example,  do  we  look  for  the 
whale,  "  the  biggest  born  of  nature  ?"  not,  1  trow,  in 
a  mill-pond,  but  in  the  main  ocean.  "  There  go  the 
great  ships :"  and  there  are  the  spoutings  of  whales 
amidst  their  boiling  foam. 

By  the  same  rule,  where  shall  we  look  for  Wash- 
ington, the  greatest  among  men,  but  in  America — 
that  greatest  Continent,  which,  rising  from  beneath 
the  frozen  pole,  stretches  far  and  wide  to  the  south, 
running  almost  "the  whole  length  of  this  vast  terrene," 
and  sustaining  on  her  ample  sides  the  roaring  shock 
of  half  the  watery  globe  ?  And  equal  to  its  size  is  the 
furniture  of  this  vast  continent,  where  the  Almighty 
has  reared  his  cloud-capt  mountains,  and  spread  his 
sea-like  lakes,  and  poured  his  mighty  rivers,  and 
hurled  down  his  thundering  cataracts-  in  a  style  of 
the  sublime,  so  far  superior  to  any  thing  of  the  kind 
in  the  other  continents,  that  we  may  fairly  conclude 
that  great  men  and  great  deeds  are  designed  for 
America. . 

This  seems  to  be  the  verdict  of  honest  analogy ; 
and  accordingly  we  find  America  the  honoured  cra- 
dlo  of  Washington,  who  was  born  on  Pope's  creek, 
in  Westmoreland  county,  Virginia,  the  22nd  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1732.  His  father,  whose  name  was  Augustin 
Washington,  was  also  a  Virginian :  but  his  grand- 
father (John)  was  an  Englishman,  who  came  over 
and  settled  in  Virginia  in  1657. 

His  father,  fully  persuaded  that  a  marriage  of 
virtuous  love  comes  nearest  to  angelic  life,  early 
stepped  up  to  the  altar  with  glowing  cheeks  and  joy 
sparkling  eyes,  while  by  his  side  with  soft  warm 
hand,  sweetly  trembling  in  his,  stood  the  angel-form 
<-f  the  lovely  Miss  Dandridge. 

After  several  years  of  great  domestic  happiness 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  I 

Mr  Washington  was  separated  by  death  from  this 
excellent  woman,  who  left  him  and  two  children  to 
t  lament  her  early  fate. 

Fully  persuaded  still,  that  "  it  is  not  good  for  man 
to  be  alone,"  he  renewed,  for  the  second  time,  the 
chaste  delights  of  matrimonial  love.  His  consort 
was  Miss  Mary  Ball,  a  young  lady  of  fortune,  and 
descended  from  one  of  the  best  families  in  Virginia. 

From  his  intermarriage  with  this  charming  girl,  it 
would  appear  that  our  hero's  father  must  have  pos- 
sessed either  a  very  pleasing  person,  or  highly 
polished  manners,  or  perhaps  both ;  for,  from  wha, 
I  can  learn,  he  was  at  that  time  at  least  forty  years 
old !  while  she,  on  the  other  hand,  was  universally 
toasted  as  the  belle  of  the  Northern  Neck,  and  in  the 
full  bloom  and  freshness  of  love-inspiring  sixteen. 
This  I  have  from  one  who  tells  me  that  he  has  carried 
down  many  a  sett  dance  with  her ;  I  mean  that 
amiable  and  pleasant  old  gentleman,  John  Fitzhugh, 
Esq.  of  Stafford,  who  was,  all  his  life,  a  neighbour 
and  intimate  of  the  Washington  family.  By  his  first 
wife,  Mr.  Washington  had  two  children,  both  sons 
— Lawrence  and  Augustin.  By  his  second  wife,  he 
had  five  children,  four  sons  and  a  daughter — George, 
Samuel,  John,  Charles,  and  Elizabeth.  Those  over 
delicate  folk,  who  are  ready  to  faint  at  thought  of  a 
second  marriage,  might  do  well  to  remember,  that 
the  greatest  man  that  ever  lived  was  the  son  of  this 
second  marriage. 

Little  George  had  scarcely  attained  his  fifth  .year, 
when  his  father  left  Pope's  creek,  and  came  up  to  a 
plantation  which  he  had  in  Stafford,  opposite  to 
Fredericksburg.  The  house  in  which  he  lived  is 
still  to  be  seen.  It  lifts  its  low  and  modest  front  of 
faded  red,  over  the  turbid  waters  of  Rappahannock ; 
whither,  to  this  day,  numbers  of  people  repair,  and, 
with  emotions  unutterable,  looking  at  the  weather- 
beaten  mansion,  exclaim,  "  Here's  the  house  where 
the  great  Washington  was  born '" 


12  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

But  it  is  all  a  mistake  ;  for  he  was  born,  as  1  said, 
at  Pope's  creek,  in  Westmoreland  county,  near  the 
margin  of  his  own  roaring  Potomac. 

The  first  place  of  education  to  which  George  waa 
ever  sent,  was  a  little  "  old  field  school,"  kept  by  one 
of  his  father's  tenants,  named  Hobby;  an  honest,  poor 
old  man,  who  acted  in  the  double  character  of  sexton 
and  schoolmaster.  On  his  skill  as  a  grave-digger, 
tradition  is  silent;  but  for  a  teacher  of  youth,  his 
qualifications  were  certainly  of  the  humbler  sort ; 
making  what  is  generally  called  an  A.  B.  C.  school- 
master. Such  was  the  preceptor  who  first  taught 
Washington  the  knowledge  of  letters  !  Hobby  lived 
to  see  his  young  pupil  in  all  his  glory,  and  rejoiced 
exceedingly.  In  his  cups — for  though  a  sexton,  he 
would  sometimes  drink,  particularly  on  the  General's 
birth  days — he  used  to  boast  that  "  'twas  he,  who, 
between  his  keees,  had  laid  the  foundation  of  George 
Washington's  greatness." 

But  though  George  was  early  sent  to  a  school- 
master, yet  he  was  not  on  that  account  neglected  by 
his  father.  Deeply  sensible  of  the  loveliness  and 
worth  of  which  human  nature  is  capable,  through 
the  virtues  and  graces  early  implanted  in  the  heart, 
he  never  for  a  moment,  lost  sight  of  George  in  those 
all-important  respects. 

To  assist  his  son  to  overcome  that  selfish  spirit, 
which  too  often  leads  children  to  fret  and  fight  about 
trifles,  was  a  notable  care  of  Mr.  Washington.  For 
*his  purpose,  of  all  the  presents,  such  as  cakes,  fruit, 
&c.  he  received,  he  was  always  desired  to  give  a  liberal 
part  to  his  play-mates.  To  enable  him  to  do  this 
with  more  alacrity,  his  father  would  remind  him  of 
the  love  which  he  would  thereby  gain,  and  the 
frequent  presents  which  would  in  return  be  made  to 
him ;  and  also  would  tell  of  that  great  and  good  God, 
who  delights  above  all  things  to  see  children  love 
Dne  another,  and  will  assuredly  reward  them  foi 
acting  so  amiable  a  part. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  13 

Some  idea  of  Mr.  Washington's  plan  of  education 
iii  this  respect,  may  be  collected  from  the  following 
anecdote,  related  to  me  twenty  years  ago  by  an  aged 
lady,  who  was  a  distant  relative,  and,  when  a  girl, 
spent  much  of  her  time  in  the  family : 

"  On  a  fine  morning,"  said  she, "  in  the  fall  of  1 737, 
Mr.  Washington  having  little  George  by  the  hand, 
came  to  the  door  and  asked  my  cousin  Washington 
and  myself  to  walk  with  him  to  the  orchard,  promis- 
ing he  would  show  us  a  fine  sight.  On  arriving  at 
the  orchard,  we  were  presented  with  a  fine  sight 
indeed.  The  whole  earth,  as  far  as  we  could  see, 
was  strewed  with  fruit :  and  yet  the  trees  were 
bending  under  the  weight  of  apples,  which  hung  in 
clusters  like  grapes,  and  vainly  strove  to  hide  their 
blushing  cheeks  behind  the  green  leaves.  Now, 
George,  said  his  father,  look  here,  my  son  !  don't  you 
remember  when  this  good  cousin  of  yours  brought 
you  that  fine  large  apple  last  spring,  how  hardly  I 
could  prevail  on  you  to  divide  with  your  brothers 
and  sisters ;  though  I  promised  you  that  if  you  would 
but  do  it,  God  Almighty  would  give  you  plenty  of 
apples  this  fall.  Poor  George  could  not  say  a  word ; 
but  hanging  down  his  head,  looked  quite  confused, 
while  with  his  little  naked  toes  he  scratched  in  the  soft 
ground.  Now  look  up,  my  son,  continued  his  father, 
look  up,  George  !  and  see  there  how  richly  the  blessed 
God  has  made  good  my  promise  to  you.  Wherever 
you  turn  your  eyes,  you  see  the  trees  loaded  with  fine 
fruit ;  many  of  them  indeed  breaking  down ;  while 
the  ground  is  covered  with  mellow  apples,  more  than 
you  could  eat,  my  son,  in  all  your  life  time." 

George  looked  in  silence  on  the  wide  wilderness 
of  fruit.  He  marked  the  busy  humming  bees,  and 
heard  the  gay  notes  of  birds ;  then  lifting  his  eyes, 
filled  with  shining  moisture,  to  his  father,  he  softly 
said,  "  Well,  Pa,  only  forgive  me.  this  time ;  and  see 
if  I  ever  be  so  stingy  any  more." 

Some,  when  they  look  uo  to  the  oak,  whose  gianl 


t%  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

arms  throw  a  darkening  shade  over  distant  acres,  01 
whose  single  trunk  lays  the  keei  of  a  man  of  war, 
cannot  bear  to  hear  of  the  time  when  this  mighty 
plant  was  but  an  acorn,  which  a  pig  could  hove  de- 
molished. But  others,  who  know  their  value,  like  to 
learn  the  soil  and  situation  which  best  produces  such 
noble  trees.  Thus,  parents  that  are  wise,  will  listen, 
well  pleased,  while  I  relate  how  moved  the  steps  of 
the  youthfu1  Washington,  whose  single  worth  far 
outweighs  all  the  oaks  of  Bashan  and  the  red  spicy 
cedars  of  Lebanon.  Yes,  they  will  listen  delighted 
while  I  tell  of  their  Washington  in  the  days  of  his 
youth,  when  his  little  feet  were  swift  towards  the 
nests  of  birds ;  or  when,  wearied  in  the  chase  of  the 
butterfly,  he  laid  him  down  on  his  grassy  couch  and 
slept,  while  ministering  spirits,  with  their  roseate 
wings,  fanned  his  glowing  cheeks,  and  kissed  his  lips 
of  innocence  with  that  fervent  love  which  makes  the 
Heaven ! 

Never  did  the  wise  Ulysses  take  more  pains  with 
his  beloved  Telemachus,  than  didJMr.  Washington 
with  George,  to  inspire  him  with  an  early  love  or 
truth.  "  Truth,  George,"  said  he,  "  is  the  loveliest 
%  quality  of  youth.  I  would  ride  fifty  miles,  my  son, 
to  see  the  little  boy  whose  heart  is  so  honest,  and  his 
lips  so  pure,  that  we  may  depend  on  every  word  he 
says.  0  how  lovely  does,  such  a  child  appear  in  the 
(eyes  of  every  body  !  his  parents  doat  on  him.  His 
•elations  glory  in  him.  They  are  constantly  praising 
lim  to  their  children,  whom  they  beg  to  imitate  him. 
They  are  often  sending  for  him  to  visit  them ;  and 
receive  him,  when  he  comes,  with  as  much  joy  as  if 
le  were  a  little  angel,  come  to  set  pretty  examples 
to  their  children. 

"  But,  Oh  !  how  different,  George,  is  the  case  with 
the  boy  who  is  so  given  to  lying,  that  nobody  can 
oelieve  a  word  he  says  !  He  is  looked  at  with  aversion 
wherever  he  goes,  and  parents  dread  to  see  him  come 
among  their  children.  Oh,  George  !  my  son  !  rathe? 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  15 

than  see  you  come  to  this  pass,  dear  as  you  are  to  my 
heart,  gladly  would  I  assist  to  nail  you  up  in  your 
little  coffin,  and  follow  you  to  your  grave.  Hard, 
indeed,  would  it  be  to  me  to  give  up  my  son,  whose 
little  feet  are  always  so  ready  to  run  about  with  me, 
and  whose  fondly  looking  eyes  and  sweet  prattte 
makes  so  large  a  part  of  my  happiness.  But  still  I 
would  give  him  up,  rather  than  see  him  a  common 
liar." 

"  Pa,"  said  George  very  seriously,  "  do  I  ever  tell 
lies  ?" 

"  No,  George,  I  thank  God  you  do  not,  my  son ; 
and  I  rejoice  in  the  hope  you  never  will.  At  least, 
you  shall  never,  from  me,  have  cause  to  be  guilty  of 
so  shameful  a  thing.  Many  parents,  indeed,  even 
compel  their  children  to  this  vile  practice,  by  barba- 
rously beating  them  for  every  little  fault :  hence,  on 
the  next  offence,  the  little  terrified  creature  slips  out 
a  lie  I  just  to  escape  the  rod.  But  as  to  yourself, 
George,  you  know  I  have  always  told  you,  and  now 
tell  you  again,  that,  whenever  by  accident,  you  do 
any  thing  wrong,  which  must  often  be  the  case,  as  you 
are  but  a  poor  little  boy  yet,  without  experience  or 
knowledge,  you  must  never  tell  a  falsehood  to  conceal 
it ;  but  come  bravely  up,  my  son,  like  a  little  man, 
and  tell  me  of  it :  and,  instead  of  beating  you,  George, 
I  will  but  the  more  honour  and  love  you  for  it,  my 
dear." 

This,  you'll  say,  wa?s  sowing  good  seed  I — Yes,  it 
was  :  and  the  crop,  thank  God,  was,  as  I  believe  it 
ever  will  be,  where  a  man  acts  the  true  parent,  that 
is,  the  Guardian  Angel,  by  his  child.  — 

The  following  anecdote  is  a  case  in  point.     It  is 
too  valuable  to  be  lost,  and  too  true  to  be  doubted ; 
for  it  was  communicated  to  me  by  the  same  excellent ' 
lady  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  the  last. 

"When  George,"  said  she,  "was  about  six  years 
old,  he  was  made  the  wealthy  master  of  a  hatchet ! 
of  which,  like  most  little  boys,  he  was  immoderately 

2 


16  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

fond,  and  was  constantly  going  about  chopping  every 
thing  that  came  in  his  way.  One  day,  in  the  garden, 
where  he  often  amused  himself  hacking  his  mother's 
pea-sticks,  he  unluckily  tried  the  edge  of  his  hatchet 
on  the  body  of  a  beautiful  young  English  cherry-tree, 
which  he  barked  so  terribly,  that  I  don't  believe  the 
tree  ever  got  the  better  of  it.  The  next  morning  the 
old  gentleman, finding  out  what  had  befallen  his  tree, 
which,  by  the  by,  was  a  great  favourite,  came  into 
the  house;  and  with  much  warmth  asked  for  the 
mischievous  author,  declaring  at  the  same  time,  that 
he  would  not  have  taken  five  guineas  for  his  tree 
Nobody  could  tell  him  any  thing  about  it.  Presently 
George  and  his  hatchet  made  their  appearance. 
«  George,"  said  his  father,  "  do  you  know  who  killed 
that  beautiful  lit.tle  cherry  tree  yonder  in  the  garden  ?" 

/    This  was  a  tough  question ;  and  George  staggered 
under  it  for  a  moment ;  but  quickly  recovered  him- 

\  self:  and  looking  at  his  father,  with  the  sweet  face  of 

I  youth  brightened  with  the  inexpressible  charm  of  all- 
j  conquering  truth,  he  bravely  cried  out,  "  I  can't  tell 

[_a  lie,  Pa ;  you  know  I  can't  tell  a  lie.  1  did  cut  it 
with  my  hatchet." — Run  to  my  arms,  you  dearest 
boy,  cried  his  father  in  transports,  run  to  my  arms  • 
glad  am  I,  George,  that  you  killed  my  tree ;  for  you 
have  paid  me  for  it  a  thousand  fold.  Such  an  act  of 
heroism  in  my  son  is  more  worth  than  a  thousand 
trees,  though  blossomed  with  silver,  and  their  fruits 
of  purest  gold." 

It  was  in  this  way  by  interesting  at  once  both  his 
heart  and  head,  that  Mr.  Washington  conducted 
George  with  great  ease  and  pleasure  along  the  happy 
paths  of  virtue.  But  well  knowing  that  his  beloved 
charge,  soon  to  be  a  man,  would  be  left  exposed  to 
numberless  temptations,  both  from  himself  and  from 
ethers,  his  heart  throbbed  with  the  tenderest  anxiety 
to  make  him  acquainted  with  that  great  being,  whom 
to  know  and  love,  is  to  possess  the  surest  defence 
against  vice,  and  the  best  of  all  motives  to  virtue  and 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  17 

happiness.  To  startle  George  into  a  lively  .sense  of 
his  Maker,  he  fell  upon  the  following  very  curious 
but  impressive  expedient: 

One  day  he  went  into  the  garden,  and  piepared  a 
little  bed  of  finely  pulverized  earth,  on  which  he 
wrote  George's  name  at  full,  in  large  letters — then 
strewing  in  plenty  of  cabbage  seed,  he  covered  them 
up,  and  smoothed  all  over  nicely  with  the  roller. — 
This  bed  he  purposely  prepared  close  along  side  of 
a  gooseberry  walk,  which  happening  at  this  time  to 
be  well  hung  with  ripe  fruit,  he  knew  would  be  ho- 
noured with  George's  visits  pretty  regularly  every 
day.  Not  many  mornings  had  passed  away  before 
in  came  George,  with  eyes  wild  rolling,  and  his  little 
cheeks  ready  to  burst  with  great  news. 

"0  Pa!  come  here  !  come  here  !" 

"  What's  the  matter,  my  son  ?  what's  the  matter  ?" 

"  O  come  here,  1  tell  you,  Pa :  come  here  !  and  I'll 
shew  you  such  a  sight  as  you  never  saw  in  all  your 
life  time." 

The  old  gentleman  suspecting  what  George  would 
be  at,  gave  him  his  hand,  which  he  seized  with  great 
eagerness,  and  tugging  him  along  through  the  garden, 
led  h-im  point  blank  to  the  bed  whereon  was  inscrib- 
ed, in  large  letters,  and  in  all  the  freshness  of  newly 
sprung  plants,  the  full  name  of 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

"  There  Pa?"  said  George,  quite  in  an  ecstacy  of 
astonishment,  "  did  you  ever  see  such  a  sight  in  atl 
your  life  time  ?" 

"  Why  it  seems  like  a  curious  affair,  sure  enough, 
George !" 

"But,  Pa,  who  did  make  it  there  t  who  did  make 
it  there  ?" 

"  It  grew  there  by  chance,  1  suppose,  my  son." 

"  By  chance,  Pa  !  0  no  !  no  !  it  never  did  gro\* 
ihere  by  chance,  Pa.  Indeed  that  it  never  did  '" 

"  High  !  why  not,  my  son  ?" 
2* 


IS  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

«  Why,  Pa,  did  you  ever  see  any  body's  name  in  a 
plant  bed  before  ?" 

«  Well,  but  George,  such  a  thing  might  happen, 
though  you  never  saw  it  before. 

"Yes,  Pa;  but  I  did  never  see  the  little  plants 
grow  up  so  as  to  make  one  single  letter  of  my  name 
before.  Now,  how  could  they  grow  up  so  as  to  make 
all  the  letters  of  my  name  !  and  then  standing  one 
after  another,  to  spell  my  name  so  exactly  ! — and  all 
so  neat  and  even  too,  at  top  and  bottom  !  !  0  Pa,  you 
must  not  say  chance  did  all  this.  Indeed  somebody 
did  it ;  and  I  dare  say  now,  Pa,  you  did  it  just  to 
scare  me,  because  I  am  your  little  boy." 

His  father  smiled  ;  and  said,  "  Well  George,  you 
have  guessed  right.  I  indeed  did  it ;  but  not  to  scare 
you,  my  son ;  but  to  learn  you  a  great  thing  which  I 
wish  you  to  understand.  I  want,  my  son,  to  intro- 
duce you  to  your  true  Father." 

"  High,  Pa,an't  you  my  true  father,  that  has  loved 
me, and  been  so  good  to  me  always?" 

"  Yes  George,  I  am  your  father,  as  the  world  calls 
it :  and  I  love  you  very  dearly  too.  But  yet  with 
all  my  love  for  you,  George,  I  am  but  a  poor  good- 
for-nothing  sort  of  a  father  in  comparison  of  one  you 
have." 

"  Aye  !  I  know,  well  enough  whom  you  mean,  Pa. 
/ou  mean  God  Almighty  ;  don't  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  son,  I  mean  him  indeed.  He  is  your 
true  Father,  George." 

"  But,  Pa,  where  is  God  Almighty  !  I  did  never 
see  him  yet." 

"  True  my  son  ;  but  though  you  never  saw  him, 
yet  he  is  always  with  you.  You  did  not  see  me  when 
ten  days  ago  I  made  this  little  plant  bed,  where  you 
see  your  name  in  such  beautiful  green  letters :  but 
though  you  did  not  see  me  here,  yet  you  know  I  was 
here ! !" 

"  Yes,  Pa,  that  I  do.  I  know  you  was  here.-' 

"Well  then, and  as  my  son  could  not  believe  that 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  19 

chance  had  made  and  put  together  so  exactly  tr  * 
Betters  of  his  name,  (though  only  sixteen)  then  how 
can  he  believe, that  chance  could  have  made  andpuv 
together  all  those  millions  and  millions  of  things  thai 
are  now  so  exactly  fitted  to  his  good !  That  my  son 
may  look  at  every  thing  around  him,  see  !  what  fine 
eyes  he  has  got !  and  a  little  pug  nose  to  smell  the 
sweet  flowers !  and  pretty  ears  to  hear  sweet  sounds! 
and  a  lovely  mouth  for  his  bread  and  butter!  and  0, 
the  little  ivory  teeth  to  cut  it  for  him  !  and  the  dear 
little  tongue  to  prattle  with  his  father  !  and  precious 
little  hands  and  fingers  to  hold  his  play-things  !  and 
beautiful  little  feet  for  him  to  run  about  upon  !  and 
when  my  little  rogue  of  a  son  is  tired  with  running 
about,  then  the  still  night  comes  for  him  to  lie  down : 
and  his  mother  sings,  and  the  little  crickets  chirp  him 
to  sleep !  and  as  soon  as  he  has  slept  enough,  and 
jumps  up  fresh  and  strong  as  a  little  buck,  there  the 
sweet  golden  light  is  ready  for  him !  When  he  looks 
down  into  the  water,  there  he  sees  the  beautiful  silver 
fishes  for  him !  and  up  in  the  trees  there  are  the 
apples,  and  peaches,  and  thousands  of  sweet  fruits 
for  him  !  and  all,  all  around  him,  wherever  my  dear 
boy  looks,  he  sees  every  thing  just  to  his  wants  and 
wishes  ; — the  bubbling  springs  with  cool  sweet  water 
for  him  to  drink  !  and  the  wood  to  make  him  spark 
ling  fires  when  he  is  cold  !  and  beautiful  horses  lor 
him  to  ride  !  and  strong  oxen  to  work  for  him  .  and 
the  good  cow  to  give  him  milk  !  and  bees  to  make 
sweet  honey  for  his  sweeter  mouth !  and  the  little 
lambs,  with  snowy  wool,  for  beautiful  clothes  for 
him  !  Now,  these  and  all  the  ten  thousand  thousand 
other  good  things  more  than  my  son  can  ever  think 
of,  and  all  so  exactly  fitted  to  his  use  and  delight — 
Now  how  could  chance  ever  have  done  all  this  for 
my  little  son  ?  Oh  George  ! — 

He  would  have  gone  on :  but  George,  who  had 
hung  upon  his  father's  words  with  looks  and  eyes  of 
all-devouring  attention,  here  broke  out —  2* 


SO  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

«*  Ob,  Pa,  that's  enough !  that's  enough !  It  can't 
be  chance,  indeed — it  can't  be  chance,  that  made  and 
gave  me  all  these  things." 

«  What  was  it  then,  do  you  think,  my  son  ?" 

« Indeed,  Pa,  I  don't  know  unless  it  was  God 
Almighty !" 

"  Yes,  George,  he  it  was,  my  son,  and  nobody 
else." 

"  Well,  but  Pa,  (continued  George)  does  God 
Almighty  give  me  every  thing  ?  Don't  you  give  me 
some  things,  Pa?" 

"  I  give  you  something  indeed  !  Oh  how  can  I 
give  you  any  thing,  George  !  I  who  have  nothing  on 
earth  that  I  can  call  my  own,  no,  not  even  the  breath 
I  draw  !" 

"  High,  Pa  !  is'nt  that  great  big  house  your  house, 
and  this  garden,  and  the  horses  yonder,  and  oxen, 
and  sheep,  and  trees,  and  every  thing,  is'nt  all  yours, 
Pa?" 

«  Oh  no  !  my  son  !  no  !  why  you  make  me  shrink 
into  nothing,  George,  when  you  talk  of  all  these  be- 
longing to  me,  who  can't  even  make  a  grain  of  sand ! 
Oh,  how  could  I,  my  son,  have  given  life  to  those 
great  oxen  and  horses,  when  I  can't  give  life  even  to 
a  fly  ? — no  !  for  if  the  poorest  fly  were  killed,  it  is  not 
your  lather,  George,  nor  all  the  men  in  the  world, 
that  could  ever  make  him  alive  again  !" 

At  this,  George  fell  into  a  profound  silence,  while 
his  pensive  looks  showed  that  his  youthful  soul  was 
labouring  with  some  idea  never  felt  before.  Perhaps 
it  was  at  that  moment,  that  the  good  Spirit  of  God 
ingrafted  on  his  heart  that  germ  of  piety,  which 
filled  his  after  life  with  so  many  of  the  precious  fruits 
of  morality 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  *1 


CHAPTER  III. 

George's  father  dies— his  education  continued  by  hia  mother — hu 
behaviour  under  school- master  Williams. 

THUS  pleasantly,  on  wings  of  down,  passed  away 
the  few  short  years  of  little  George's  and  his  father's 
earthly  acquaintance.  Sweetly  ruled  by  the  sceptre  of 
reason,  George  almost  adored  his  father;  and  thus 
sweetly  obeyed  with  all  the  cheerfulness  of  love,  his 
father  doated  on  George.  And  though  very  different 
in  their  years,  yet  parental  and  filial  love  rendered 
them  so  mutually  dear,  that  the  old  gentleman  was 
often  heard  to  regret,  that  the  school  took  his  little 
companion  so  much  from  him — while  George,  on  the 
other  hand,  would  often  quit  his  playmates  to  run 
home  and  converse  with  his  more  beloved  father. 

But  George  was  not  long  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  or 
the  profit  of  such  a  companion ;  for  scarcely  had  he 
attained  his  tenth  year,  before  his  father  was  seized 
with  the  gout  in  his  stomach,  which  carried  him  off 
in  a  few  days.  George  was  not  at  home  when  his 
father  was  taken  ill.  He  was  on  a  visit  to  some  of  his 
cousins  in  Chotank,  about  twenty  miles  off:  and  his 
father,  unwilling  to  interrupt  his  pleasures,  (for  it  was 
but  seldom  that  he  visitedj  would  not  at  first  allow 
him  to  be  sent  for.  But  finding  that  he  was  going 
very  fast,  he  begged  that  they  would  send  for  him  in 
all  haste.  He  often  asked  if  he  was  come  ;  and  said 
how  happy  he  should  be  once  more  to  see  his  little 
SOE,  and  give  him  his  blessing  before  he  died.  But 
alas  !  he  never  enjoyed  that  last  mournful  pleasure ; 
for  George  did  not  reach  home  until  a  few  hours 
before  his  father's  death :  and  then  he  was  speechless ! 
The  moment  he  alighted,  he  ran  into  the  chamber 
where  he  lay.  But  oh !  what  were  his  feelings 
when  he  saw  the  sad  change  that  had  passed  upon 
iim !  when  he  beheld  those  eyes,  late  so  bright  and 


22  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

fond,  now  reft  of  all  their  lustre,  faintly  looking  on 
him  from  their  hollow  sockets,  and  through  swelling 
tears,  in  mute  but  melting  language,  bidding  him  a 

last,  last  farewell ! Rushing  with  sobs  and  cries, 

he  fell  upon  his  father's  neck he  kissed  him  a 

thousand  and  a  thousand  times,  and  bathed  his  clay- 
cold  face  with  scalding  tears. 

0  happiest  youth  !  Happiest  in  that  love,  which 
thus,  to  its  enamoured  soul  strained  an  aged,  an 
expiring  sire.  0  !  worthiest  to  be  the  founder  of  a 
just  and  equal  government  lasting  as  thy  own  death- 
less name  !  And  0  !  happiest  old  man  !  thus  luxu- 
riously expiring  in  the  arms  of  such  a  child  !  0  !  well 
requited  for  teaching  him  that  love  of  his  God  (the 
only  fountain  of  every  virtuous  love)  in  return  for 
which  he  gave  thee  ('twas  all  he  had)  himself — his 
fondest  company — his  sweetest  looks  and  prattle. 
He  now  gives  thee  his  little  feeble  embraces.  With 
artless  sighs  and  tears,  faithful  to  thee  still,  his  feet 
will  follow  thee  to  thy  grave  :  and  when  thy  beloved 
corse  is  let  down  to  the  stones  of  the  pit,  with  stream- 
ing eyes  he  will  rush  to  the  brink,  to  take  one  more 
look,  while  his  bursting  heart  will  give  thee  its  last 
trembling  cry 0  my  father  !  my  father ! 

But,  though  he  had  lost  his  best  of  friends,  yet  he 
never  lost  those  divine  sentiments  which  that  friend 
had  so  carefully  inculcated.  On  the  contrary,  inter- 
woven with  the  fibres  of  his  heart,  they  seemed  to 
'grow  with  his  growth,  and  to  strengthen  with  his 
strength."  The  memory  of  his  father,  often  bathed 
with  a  tear — the  memory  of  his  father,  now  sleeping 
in  his  grave,  was  felt  to  impose  a  more  sacred  obli- 
gation to  do  whatever  he  knew  would  rejoice  his 
departed  shade.  This  was  very  happily  displayed, 
in  every  part  of  his  deportment,  from  the  moment  of 
his  earliest  intercourse  with  mankind. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  his  father,  his  mother  sent 
him  down  to  Westmoreland,  the  place  of  his  nativity, 
where  he  lived  with  his  half-brother  Augustine,  and 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  29 

Trent  to  school  to  a  Mr.  Williams,  an  excellent  teach- 
er in  that  neighbourhood.  He  carried  with  him  his 
virtues,  his  zeal  for  unblemished  character,  his  love  of 
truth,  and  detestation  of  whatever  was  false  and  base. 
A  gilt  chariot  with  richest  robes  and  liveried  servants, 
could  not  half  so  substantially  have  befriended  him ; 
for  in  a  very  short  time,  so  completely  had  his  virtues 
secured  the  love  and  confidence  of  the  boys,  his  word 
was  just  as  current  among  them  as  a  law.  A  very 
aged  gentleman,  formerly  a  school  mate  of  his,  has 
often  assured  me,  (while  pleasing  recollection  bright- 
ened his  furrowed  cheeks,)  that  nothing  was  more 
common,  when  the  boys  were  in  high  dispute  about 
a  question  of  fact,  than  for  some  little  shaver  among 
the  mimic  heroes,  to  call  out,  "  well  boys !  George 
Washington  was  there ;  Goorge  Washington  was 
there.  He  knows  all  about  it :  and  if  he  don't  say  it 
was  so,  then  we  will  give  it  up." — "  Done,"  said  the 
adverse  party.  Then  away  they  would  trot  to  hunt 
for  George.  Soon  as  his  verdict  was  heard,  the  parly 
favoured  would  begin  to  crow,  and  then  all  hands 
would  return  to  play  again. 

About  five  years  after  the  death  of  his  father,  he 
quitted  school  for  ever,  leaving  the  boys  in  tears  for 
his  departure  :  for  he  had  ever  lived  among  them,  in 
the  spirit  of  a  brother.  He  was  never  guilty  of  so 
brutish  a  practice  as  that  of  fighting  himself;  nor 
would  he,  when  able  to  prevent  it,  allow  them  to  fight 
one  another.  If  he  could  not  disarm  their  savage 
passions  by  his  arguments,  he  would  instantly  go  to 
the  master,  and  inform  him  of  their  barbarous  inten- 
tions. 

"  The  boys,"  said  the  same  good  old  gentleman, 
"  were  often  angry  with  George  for  this." — But  he 
used  to  say,  "  angry  or  not  angry,  you  shall  never, 
boys,  have  my  consent  to  a  practice  so  shocking ! 
shocking  even  in  slaves  and  dogs ;  then  how  utterly 
scandalous  in  little  boys  at  school,  who  ought  to  look 
m  one  another  as  brothers.  And  what  must  be  the 


t4  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

feelings  of  our  tender  parents,  when,  instead  of  seeing 
us  come  home  smiling  and  lovely,  as  the  joy  of  theh 
hearts '  they  see  us  creeping  in  like  young  black- 
guards, with  our  heads  bound  up,  black  eyes,  and 
bloody  clothes !  And  what  is  all  this  for  ?  Why,  that 
we  may  get  praise  ! !  But  the  truth  is,  a  quarrelsome 
boy  was  never  sincerely  praised  !  Big  boys,  of  the 
vulgar  sort,  indeed  may  praise  him :  but  it  is  only  as 
they  would  a  silly  game  cock,  that  fights  for  their 
pastime :  and  the  little  boys  are  sure  to  praise  him, 
but  it  is  only  as  they  would  a  bull  dog — to  keep  him 
from  tearing  them  ! !" 

Some  of  his  historians  have  said,  and  many  believe, 
that  Washington  was  a  Latin  scholar!  But  'tis  an 
error.  He  never  learned  a  syllable  of  Latin.  His 
second  and  last  teacher,  Mr.  Williams,  was  indeed  a 
capital  hand — but  not  at  Latin ;  for  of  that  he  under- 
stood perhaps  as  little  as  Balaam's  ass.  But  at 
reading,  spelling,  English  grammar,  arithmetic,  sur- 
veying, book  keeping,  and  geography,  he  was  indeed 
famous.  And  in  these  useful  arts,  'tis  said  he  often 
boasted  that  he  had  made  young  George  Washington 
as  great  a  scholar  as  himself. 

Born  to  be  a  soldier,  Washington  early  discovered 
symptoms  of  nature's  intentions  towards  him.  In 
his  llth  year,  while  at  school  under  old  Mr.  Hobby, 
he  used  to  divide  his  play-mates  into  two  parties  or 
armies.  One  of  these,  for  distinction  sake,  was  called 
French,  the  other  American.  A  big  boy  at  the  school, 
named  William  Bustle,  commanded  the  former; 
George  commanded  the  latter.  And  every  day,  at 
play-time,  with  corn-stalks  for  muskets,  and  cala- 
bashes for  drums,  the  two  armies  would  turn  out,  and 
march,  and  counter-march,  and  file  off  or  fight  their 
mimic  battles,  with  great  fury.  This  was  fine  sport 
for  George,  whose  passion  for  active  exercise  was  so 
strong,  that  at  play-time  no  weather  could  keep  him 
within  doors.  His  fair  cousins,  who  visited  at  his 
mother's,  used  to  complain,  that  "  George  was  not 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  25 

fond  of  their  company,  like  other  boys ;  but  soon  as 
ne  had  got  his  task,  would  run  out  to  play."  But 
such  trifling  play  as  marbles  and  tops  he  could  never 
endure.  They  did  not  afford  him  exercise  enough. 
His  delight  was  in  that  of  the  manliest  sort,  which, 
by  stringing  the  limbs  and  swelling  the  muscles 
promotes  the  kindliest  flow  of  blood  and  spirits.  At 
jumping  with  a  long  pole,  or  heaving  heavy  weights, 
for  his  years  he  hardly  had  an  equal.  And  as  to 
running,  the  swift-footed  Achilles  could  scarcely  have 
matched  his  speed. 

"  Egad  !  he  ran  wonderfully,"  said  my  amiable 
and  aged  frieud,  John  Fitzhugh,  Esq.,  who  knew  him 
well.  "  We  had  nobody  here-abouts,  that  could  come 
near  him.  There  was  a  young  Langhorn  Dade,  of 
Westmoreland,  a  confounded  clean  made,  tight  young 
fellow,  and  a  mighty  swift  runner  too.  But  then  he 
was  no  match  for  George.  Langy,  indeed,  did  not 
like  to  give  it  up  ;  and  would  brag  that  he  had  some- 
times brought  George  to  a  tie.  But  I  believe  he  was 
mistaken  :  for  I  have  seen  them  run  together  many  a 
time ;  and  George  always  beat  him  easy  enough." 
C^  Col.  Lewis  Willis,  his  play-mate  and  kinsman,  has 
been  heard  to  say,  that  he  has  often  seen  him  throw 
a  stone  across  Rappahannock,  at  the  lower  ferry  of 
Fredericksburg.  It  would  be  no  easy  matter  .matter 
to  find  a  man,  now  a-days,  who  could  do  it.  ) 

Indeed  his  father  before  him  was  a  man  of  extra- 
ordinary strength.  His  gun,  which  to  this  day  is 
called  Washington's  fowling-piece,  and  is  now  the 
property  of  Mr.  Harry  Fitzhugh,  of  Chotank,  is  of 
such  enormous  weight,  that  not  one  man  in  fifty  can 
fire  it  without  a  rest.  And  yet  throughout  that  coun- 
try it  is  said,  that  he  made  nothing  of  holding  it  off 
at  arms  length,  and  blazing  away  at  the  swans  on 
Potomac  ;  of  which  he  has  been  known  to  kill,  rank 
and  file  seven  or  eight  at  a  shot. 

But  to  return  to  George.  It  appears  that  from  the 
start  he  was  a  boy  of  an  uncommonly  warm  and 


26  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

noble  heart ;  insomuch  that  Lawrence,  though  bn' 
his  half-brother,  took  such  a  liking  to  him,  even  above 
his  own  brother  Augustine,  that  he  would  always 
have  George  with  him  when  he  could ;  and  often 
pressed  him  to  come  and  live  with  him.  But,  as  if  led 
by  some  secret  irr  pulse,  George  declined  the  offer,  and 
as  we  have  seen,  went  to  work  in  the  back  woods,  as 
Lord  Fairfax's  surveyor  !  However,  when  Lawrence 
was  taken  with  the  consumption,  and  advised  by  his 
physicians  to  make  a  trip  to  Bermuda,  George  could 
not  resist  any  longer,  but  hastened  down  to  his  brother 
at  Mount  Vernon,  and  went  with  him  to  Bermuda 
It  was  at  Bermuda  that  George  took  the  small-pox, 
which  marked  him  rather  agreeably  than  otherwise. 
Lawrence  never  recovered,  but  returned  to  Virginia, 
where  he  died  just  after  his  brother  George  had 
fought  his  hard  battle  against  the  French  and  Indians, 
at  Fort  Necessity,  as  the  reader  will  presently  learn. 

Lawrence  did  not  live  to  see  George  after  that , 
but  he  lived  to  hear  of  his  fame  ;  for  as  the  French 
and  Indians  were  at  that  time  a  great  public  terror, 
the  people  could  not  help  being  very  loud  in  their 
jraise  of  a  youth,  who,  with  so  slender  a  force  had 
dared  to  meet  them  in  their  own  country,  and  had 
given  them  such  a  check. 

And  when  Lawrence  heard  of  his  favorite  young 
brother,  that  he  had  fought  so  gallantly  for  his  coun- 
try, and  that  the  whole  land  was  filled  with  his  praise, 
he  wept  for  joy.  And  such  is  the  victory  of  love 
over  nature,  that  though  fast  sinking  under  the  fever 
and  cough  of  a  consumption  in  its  extreme  stage,  he 
did  not  seem  to  mind  it,  but  spent  his  last  moments 
in  fondly  talking  of  his  brother  George,  who,  he  said, 
«  he  had  always  believed,  would  one  day  or  other  be 
a  great  man  "' 

On  opem  g  his  will,  it  was  found  that  George  had 
lost  nothing  by  his  dutiful  and  affectionate  behaviour 
to  his  brother  Lawrence.  For  having  now  no  issue 
(his  only  child,  a  little  daughter,  lately  dying)  he  lefl 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  27 

to  George  all  his  rich  lands  in  Berkley,  together  with 
his  great  estate  on  Potomac, called  MOUNT  VERNON, 
in  honour  of  old  Admiral  Vernon,  by  whom  he  had 
been  treated  with  great  politeness,  while  a  volunteer 
with  him  at  the  unfortunate  siege  of  Carthagena,  in 
1741. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

George  leaves  school — is  appointed  a  private  surveyor  to  Lord  Fair 
fax,  of  the  Northern  Neck — wishes  to  enter  on  board  of  a  British 
man  of  war — providentially  prevented  by  his  mother — the  firu\ 
lightnings  of  his  soul  to  war 

HAPPILY  for  America,  George  Washington  was 
not  born  with  "  a  silver  spoon  in  his  mouth."  The 
Rappahannock  plantatation  left  him  by  his  father, 
was  only  in  reversion — and  his  mother  was  still  in 
her  prime.  Seeing  then  no  chance  of  ever  rising  in 
the  world  but  by  his  own  merit,  on  leaving  school 
he  went  up  to  Fairfax  to  see  his  brother  Lawience 
with  whom  he  found  Mr.  William  Fairfax,  one  of 
the  governor's  council,  who  was  come  up  on  a  visit 
to  his  sister,  whom  Lawrence  had  married.  The 
counsellor  presently  took  a  great  liking  to  George ; 
and  hearing  him  express  a  wish  to  get  employment 
as  a  surveyor,  introduced  him  to  his  relative,  lord 
Fairfax,  the  wealthy  proprietor  of  all  those  lands  ge- 
nerally called  the  Northern  Neck,  lying  between  the 
Potomac  and  Rappahannock,  and  extending  from 
Smith's  Point  on  the  Chesapeake,  to  the  foot  of  the 
Great  Allegheny.  At  the  instance  of  the  counsellor, 
Lord  Fairfax  readily  engaged  George  as  a  surveyor ; 
and  sent  him  up  into  the  back- woods  to  work.  He 
continued  in  hs  lordship's  service  till  his  20th  year, 
closely  pursuing  the  laborious  life  of  a  woodsman. 

From  the  manner  in  which  Washinaton  chose  to 
3 


*8 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 


amuse  his  leisure  hours  during  this  period,  1  am 
almost  inclined  to  think  that  he  had  a  presentiment 
of  the  great  labours  that  lay  before  him.  When  in 
Frederick,  which  at  that  time  was  very  large,  con- 
taining the  counties  now  called  Berkley,  Jefferson, 
and  Shenandoah,  he  boarded  in  the  house  of  the  wi- 
dow Stevenson,  generally  pronounced  Stinson.  This 
lady  had  seven  sons — William  and  Valentine  Craw- 
ford, by  her  first  husband ;  and  John,  and  Hugh,  and 
Dick,  and  Jim,  and  Mark  Stinson,  by  her  last  hus- 
band. These  seven  young  men,  in  Herculean  size 
and  strength,  were  equal,  perhaps,  to  any  seven  sons 
of  any  one  mother  in  Christendom.  This  was  a 
family  exactly  to  George's  mind,  because  promising 
him  an  abundance  of  that  manly  exercise  in  which 
he  delighted.  In  front  of  the  house  lay  a  fine  ex- 
tended green,  with  a  square  of  several  hundred  yards. 
Here  it  was  every  evening,  when  his  daily  toils  of 
surveying  were  ended,  that  George,  like  a  young 
Greek  training  for  the  Olympic  games,  used  to  turn 
out  with  his  sturdy  young  companions,  "  to  see,"  as 
they  termed  it,  "  which  was  the  best  man,"  at  run- 
ning, jumping,  and  wrestling.  And  so  keen  was 
their  passion  for  these  sports,  and  so  great  their  am- 
bition to  excel  each  other,  that  they  would  often 
persist,  especially  on  moon-shining  nights,  till  bed- 
time. The  Crawfords  and  Stinsons,  though  not  taller 
than  George,  were  much  heavier  men  ;  so  that  at 
wrestling,  and  particularly  at  the  close  or  Indian  hug, 
he  seldom  gained  much  matter  of  triumph.  But  in 
all  trials  of  agility,  they  stood  no  chance  with  him' 
From  these  Frederick  county  gymnastics  or  exer 
cises,  there  followed  an  effect  which  shews  the  very 
wide  difference  between  participating  in  innocent 
and  guilty  pleasures.  While  companions  in  raking 
and  gambling,  heartily  despise  and  hate  one  another^ 
and  when  they  meet  in  the  streets,  pass  each  other 
with  looks  as  cold  and  shy  as  sheep-thieving  curs — 
these  virtuous  young  men,  by  spending  their  even 


L^FE  OF  WASHINGTON.  29 

ings  together,  in  innocent  and  manly  exercises,  con- 
tracted a  friendship  which  lasted  for  life.  When 
George,  twenty-five  years  after  this,  was  called  to 
lead  the  American  armies,  he  did  riot  forget  his  old 
friends,  the  Stinsons  and  Crawfords  ;  but  gave  com- 
missions to  all  of  them  who  chose  to  join  his  army  ; 
which  several  of  them  did.  William  Crawford,  the 
eldest  of  them,  and  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  shoulder- 
ed a  musket,  was  advanced  as  high  as  the  rank  of 
colonel,  when  he  was  burnt  to  death  by  the  Indians 
at  Sandusky.  And  equally  cordial  was  the  love  of 
these  young  men  towards  George,  of  whom  they 
always  spoke  as  of  a  brother.  Indeed,  Hugh  Stin- 
son,  the  second  brother,  who  had  a  way  of  snapping 
his  eyes  when  he  talked  of  any  thing  that  greatly 
pleased  him,  used  to  brighten  up  at  the  name  of 
Washington  ;  and  would  tell  his  friends,  that,  "  he 
and  his  brother  John  had  often  laid  the  conqueror  of 
England  on  his  back  ;"  but  at  the  same  time,  would 
agree,  that,  «  in  running  and  jumping  they  were  no 
match  for  him." 

Such  was  the  way  in  which  George  spent  his 
leisure  hours  in  the  service  of  Lord  Fairfax.  Little 
did  the  old  gentleman  expect  that  he  was  educating 
a  youth,  who  should  one  day  dismember  the  British 
empire  and  break  his  own  heart  —  which  truly  came 
to  par.s.  For  on  hearing  that  Washington  had  cap- 
tured Cornwallis  and  all  his  army,  he  called  out  to 
his  h'ack  waiter,  "  Come,  Joe  !  carry  me  to  my  ^ed  ! 


fo«-  I'm  sure  'tis  high  time  for  me  to  die  !" 

Then  up  rose  Joe,  all  at  the  word 
And  took  his  master's  arm, 

And  to  his  bed  he  softly  led, 
The  lord  of  Green-way  farm. 

There  he  call'd  on  Britain's  name 
'  And  oft  he  wept  full  sore."  — 
Then  sigh'd  —  thy  will,  O  Lord  be  don 
"  And  woid  spake  never  more." 

3* 


30  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

It  was  in  his  15th  year,  according  to  the  best  oi 
my  information,  that  Washington  first  felt  the  kind- 
lings of  his  soul  for  war.  The  cause  was  this — In 
those  days  the  people  of  Virginia  looked  on  Grea* 
Britain  as  th«  mother  country  ;  and  to  go  thither  was, 
in  common  phrase,  "  to  go  home."  The  name  of  OLD 
ENGLAND  was  music  in  their  ears  :  and  the  bare  men 
tion  of  a  blow  meditated  against  her,  never  failed  to 
rouse  a  something  at  the  heart,  which  instantly  flam- 
ed on  the  cheek,  and  flashed  in  the  eye.  Washington 
had  his  full  share  of  these  virtuous  feelings :  on  hear- 
ing, therefore,  that  France  and  Spain  were  mustering 
a  black  cloud  over  his  MOTHER  COUNTRY,  his  youth- 
ful blood  took  fire ;  and  he  instantly  tendered  what 
aid  his  little  arm  could  afford.  The  rank  of  mid- 
shipman was  procured  for  him  on  board  a  British 
ship  of  war,  then  lying  in  our  waters ;  and  his  trunk 
and  clothes  were  actually  sent  on  board.  '  But  when 
he  came  to  take  leave  of  his  mother,  she  wept  bitter- 
ly, and  told  him,  she  felt  that  her  heart  would  break 
if  he  left  her.  George  immediately  got  his  trunk 
ashore  !  as  he  could  not,  for  a  moment,  bear  the  idea 
of  inflicting  a  wound  on  that  dear  life  which  had  so 
long  and  so  fondly  sustained  his  own. 

Where  George  got  his  great  military  talents,  is 
a  question  vhich  none  but  the  happy  believers  in  a 
particular  Providence  can  solve :  certain  it  is,  his 
earthly  parents  had  no  hand  in  it.  For  of  his  father, 
tradition  says  nothing,  save  that  he  was  a  most  amia- 
ble old  gentlemen  ;  one  who  made  good  crops,  and 
scorned  to  give  his  name  to  the  quill-drivers  of  a 
counting-room.  And  as  to  his  mother,  it  is  well 
known  that  she  was  none  of  Bellona's  fiery  race.  For 
as  some  of  the  Virginia  officers,  just  after  the  splendid 
actions  of  Trenton  and  Princeton,  were  compliment- 
ing her  on  the  generalship  and  rising  glory  of  her 
son,  instead  of  shewing  the  exultation  of  a  Spartan 
dame,  she  replied,  with  all  the  sang  froid  of  a  good 
old  Friend,  "  Ah,  dear  me  !  This  fighting  and  killing 


UF  WASHINGTON.  31 

is  a  sad  thing  !  I  wish  George  would  come  home  and 
.ook  after  his  plantation  !  ! 

Nor  does  it  appear  that  nature  had  mixed  much 
of  gunpowder  in  the  composition  of  any  of  his  bro- 
thers; for  when  one  of  them,  in  the  time  of  Brad- 
dock's  war,  wrote  him  a  letter,  signifying  something 
like  a  wish  to  enter  into  the  service ;  George,  it  is 
said,  gave  him  this  short  reply :  "  Brother,  stay  at 
home,  and  comfort  your  wife." 

But  though  not  destined  to  figure  on  the  quarter- 
deck of  a  man  of  war,  yet.  he  ceased  not  to  cultivate 
that  talent  which  had  been  given  for  higher  uses. 
From  adjutant  Muse,  a  Westmoreland  volunteer, 
who  had  gained  much  credit  in  the  war  of  Cuba, 
whence  he  had  lately  returned  with  Lawrence  Wash- 
ington, he  learnt  to  go  through  the  manual  exercise 
with  great  dexterity.  By  the  help  of  good  treatises 
on  the  art  of  war,  which  were  put  into  his  hands  by 
the  same  gentleman,  he  soon  acquired  very  clear 
ideas  of  the  evolutions  and  movements  of  troops. 
And  from  Mons.  Vanbraam,  who  afterwards  accom- 
panied him  as  interpreter  to  Venango,  he  acquired 
the  art  of  fencing,  at  which,  it  is  said,  he  was  ex- 
tremely expert.  A  passion,  so  uncommon  for  war, 
joined  to  a  /ery  manly  appearance,  and  great  dignity 
of  character,  could  scarcely  fail  to  attract  on  him  the 
attention  of  the  public.  In  fact  the  puJblic  sentiment 
was  so  strong  in  his  favour,  that  at  the  green  age 
of  nineteen,  he  was  appointed  major  and  adjutant 
general  of  the  Virginia  forces  in  the  Northern  Neck, 
when  training,  as  was  expected,  for  immediate 
service. 

For  his  services  as  an  adjutant  general,  he  was 
allowed  by  the  crown  one  hundred  pounds  sterling 

per  annum 

3* 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  V. 

French  encroachments  on  the  Ohio — Washington  volunteers  his 
service  to  governor  Dinwiddie — his  hazardous  embassy  to  the 
French  and  Indians — miraculous  escapes — account  of  his  journal- 
anecdote  of  his  modesty. 

IN  the  year  1753  the  people  of  Virginia  were 
alarmed  by  a  report  that  the  French,  aided  by  the 
Indians,  were  erecting  a  long  line  of  military  posts 
on  the  Ohio.  This  mano3uvre,  predicting  no  good  to 
the  ancient  dominion,  was  properly  resented  by 
Robert  Dinwiddie,  the  governor,  who  wished  imme- 
diately in  the  name  of  his  king  to  forbid  the  measure. 
But  how  to  convey  a  letter  to  the  French  command- 
ant on  the  Ohio,  was  the  question.  For  the  whole 
country  west  of  the  Blue  Mountains,  was  one  im- 
measurable forest,  from  time  immemorial  the  gloomy 
haunt  of  ravening  beasts  and  of  murderous  savages. 
No  voices  had  ever  broke  the  awful  silence  of  those 
dreary  woods,  save  the  hiss  of  rattlesnakes,  the 
shrieks  of  panthers,  the  yell  of  Indians,  and  howling 
tempests.  From  such  scenes,  though  beheld  but  by 
the  distant  eye  of  fancy,  the  hearts  of  youth  are  apt 
to  shrink  with  terror,  and  to  crouch  more  closely  to 
their  safer  fire-sides.  But  in  the  firmer  nerves  of 
Washington,  they  do  not  appear  to  have  made  the 
least  impression  of  the  agueish  sort.  The  moment 
he  heard  of  the  governor's  wishes,  he  waited  on  him 
with — a  tender  of  his  services. 

"  Now  Christ  save  my  saoul,  but  ye'er  a  braw 
lad  !"  said  the  good  old  Scotchman, "  and  gin  ye  play 
your  cards  weel,  my  boy,  ye  shall  hae  nae  cause  ta 
rue  your  bargain."  The  governor  took  him  to  his 
palace  that  night,  which  was  spent  in  preparing  his 
letters  and  instructions.  The  next  day,  accompanied 
by  an  interpreter  and  a  couple  of  servants,  he  set  out 
on  his  journey,  which,  being  in  the  depth  of  winter. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  32 

was  as  disagreeable  anl  dangerous  asHeicules  him- 
self could  have  desired.  Drenching  rains  and  drown- 
ing floods,  and  snow-covered  mountains  opposed  his 
course ;  but  opposed  in  vain.  The  generous  ambi- 
tion to  serve  his  country,  and  to  distinguish  himself, 
carried  him  through  all ;  and,  even  at  the  most  trying 
times,  touched  his  heart  with  a  joy  unknown  to  the 
vain  and  trifling.  On  his  way  home  he  was  way-laid 
and  shot  at  by  an  Indian,  who,  though  not  fifteen 
paces  distant,  happily  missed  his  aim.  The  poor 
wretch  was  made  prisoner.  But  Washington  could 
not  find  in  his  heart  to  put  him  to  death,  though  his 
own  safety  seemed  to  require  the  sacrifice.  The 
next  evening,  in  attempting  to  cross  a  river  on  a  raft, 
he  was  within  an  ace  of  being  drowned ;  and,  the 
night  following,  of  perishing  in  the  ice ;  but  from 
both  these  imminent  deadly  risks,  there  was  a  hand 
unseen  that  effected  his  escape. 

About  the  middle  of  January  he  returned  to  Wil- 
liamsburgh  ;  and,  instantly  waiting  on  the  governor, 
presented  him  the  fruits  of  his  labours — the  belts  of 
wampum  which  he  had  brought  from  the  Indian 
kings  as  pledges  of  their  friendship — the  French 
governor's  letters — and,  last  of  all,  his  journal  of  the 
expedition.  This,  it  seems,  he  had  drawn  up  as  a  tub 
for  the  whale,  that  he  might  be  spared  the  pain  of 
much  talking  about  himself  and  his  adventures.  For 
like  the  king  of  Morven, "  though  mighty  deeds  rolled 
from  his  soul  of  fire,  yet  his  words  were  never  heard/ 
The  governor  was  much  pleased  with  the  Indian  belts 
— more  with  the  Frenchman's  letter — but  most  of  all 
with  Washington's  journal,  which  he  proposed  to  have 
printed  immediately.  Washington  begged  that  his 
excellency  would  spare  him  the  mortification  of  seeing 
his  journal  sent  out  into  the  world  in  so  mean  a  dress. 
He  urged,  that  having  been  written  in  a  wintry  wil- 
derness, by  a  traveller,  young,  illiterate,  and  often 
cold,  wet,  and  weary,  it  needed  a  thousand  amend- 
ments. "  Hoot  awa,  Major,"  reolied  his  excellency. 


94  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

"hoot  awa,  mon  ;  what  tauk  ye  aboot  amendments 
I  am  sure  the  pamphlet  need  nae  blush  to  be  seen  by 
his  majesty  himsel — and  in  geud  troth  I  mean  to 
send  him  a  copy  or  twa  of  it.  And  besides  our 
Assembly  will  rise  to-morrow  or  next  day,  and  I 
wish  each  of  the  members  to  tak  a  few  copies  name 
with  them.  So  we  must  e'en  strait-way  print  the 
journal  off  hand  as  it  is." 

The  journal,  of  course,  was  immediately  printed. 
Every  eye  perused  it :  and  every  tongue  was  loud  in 
its  praise.  Indeed  it  was  not  easy  to  err  on  the  side 
of  excess ;  for  whoever  with  candour  reads  the  jour- 
nal, will  readily  pronounce  it  an  unique  in  the  history 
of  juvenile  productions.  It  discovers  that  vigour,  and 
variety  of  talents,  which  take  up,  as  it  were  intui- 
tively, the  views  belonging  to  any  new  subject  that 
presents  itself.  It  is  the  hasty  production  of  a  young 
man,  born  in  retreats  of  deepest  solitude,  in  a  time  of 
profoundest  peace,  and  brought  up  to  the  simple 
harmless  employment  of  a  surveyor,  an  employment 
which,  more  than  any  other,  tends  to  tranquillize  the 
mind.  The  verdure  and  music  of  the  love-breathing 
spring ;  the  bright  fields  and  harvests  of  joy-inspiring 
summer ;  the  faded  leaves  and  mournful  silence  of 
autumn,  with  winter's  solemn  grandeur ;  were  the 
scenes  in  which  the  youth  of  Washington  was  passed. 
In  these  he  hears  the  roar  of  distant  war — from  these 
he  is  sent  forth  to  mark  the  gathering  storm.  In- 
stantly he  breathes  the  whole  spirit  of  his  new 
engagement — "  Old  things  are  done  away :  all  things 
are  become  new."  The  chain  and  theodolite  are 
forgotten — the  surveyor  is  lost  in  the  soldier.  His 
shoulders  are  young :  but  they  sustain  the  head  of  an 
old  engineer.  He  marks  the  soil,  the  timber,  the 
confluence  of  rivers,  the  sites  for  forts.  In  short, 
nothing  connected  with  the  defence  of  his  country 
escapes  him.  He  penetrates  the  characters  of  the 
different  people  around  him — the  low  sensuality  of 
the  Indian,  ready,  for  a  drain,  to  lift  the  tomahawk — 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  35 

the  polished  subtleties  of  the  European,  who  can 
"  smile  and  smile,"  and  yet  design  the  death  of 
the  traveller.  These  important  truths  present 
themselves  intuitively  to  his  mind ;  and  shine  with 
such  lustre  in  the  pages  of  his  journal,  as  to  com- 
mand the  admiration  of  every  unprejudiced  reader. 
Among  the  gentlemen  in  Williamsburgh  who  had 
sense  and  virtue  enough  to  appreciate  the  worth  of 
Washington,  one  of  the  first  was  a  Mr.  Waller 
This  gentleman,  conversing  on  that  subject  with  Mr. 
Robertson,  speaker  of  the  house  of  Burgesses,  ob- 
served, that  such  services  as  those  rendered  by  Major 
Washington,  were  far  too  important  to  be  paid  off  by 
the  light  coin  of  common  parlour  puffs.  "  This  young 
man,"  said  he,  "  has  deserved  well  of  his  country ; 
and  her  Representatives  in  Assembly  ought  to  ac- 
knowledge the  obligation."  That's  exactly  my  own 
opinion,"  replied  Robertson  :  "and  if  you  will  let  me 
know  when  the  major  next  visits  us,  I  will  make  a 
motion  to  that  effect." 

The  next  day,  Washington,  not  having  ever  dreamt 
of  the  honour  intended  him,  entered  the  house  ;  and, 
going  up  stairs,  took  his  seat  in  the  gallery.  The 
eagle-eyed  friendship  of  Mr.  Waller  quickly  discov- 
ered him ;  and  stepping  to  the  chair,  whispered  it  to 
Mr.  Robertson;  who  instantly  arose,  and  ordering 
sitence,  called  out :  "  Gentlemen,  it  is  proposed  that 
the  thanks  of  this  house  be  given  to  Major  Washing- 
ton, who  now  sits  in  the  gallery,  for  the  very  gallant 
manner  in  which  he  executed  the  important  trust 
lately  reposed  in  him  by  his  excellency  governor 
Dinwiddie."  In  a  moment  the  house  rose  as  one 
man ;  and  turning  towards  Washington,  saluted  him 
with  a  general  bow ;  and,  in  very  flattering  terms, 
expressed  their  high  sense  of  his  services.  Had  an 
earthquake  shaken  the  capitol  to  the  centre,  it  could 
hardly  have  so  completely  confounded  the  major! 
He  rose  to  make  his  acknowledgments,  but,  alas;  his 
tongue  had  forgotten  its  office  Thrice  he  essayed  to 


S«  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

speak :  but  thrice,  in  spite  of  every  effort,  his  utter- 
ance failed  him,  save  faintly  to  articulate,  "  Mr. 
Speaker,  Mr.  Speaker !"  To  relieve  him  from  his 
embarrassment,  Mr.  Robertson  kindly  called  out, 
"  Major  Washington,  Major  Washington,  sit  down ; 
your  modesty  alone  is  equal  to  your  merit." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  French  and  Indian  war  begins — Washington  goes  forth  to  meet 
the  dangers  of  his  country — aims  a  blow  at  Fort  Du  Quesne — fails 
— gallant  defence  of  Fort  Necessity — retires  from  the  service  in 
disgust — pressed  into  it  again  hy  General  Braddock — defeat  and 
death  of  Braddock,  and  dreadful  slaughter  of  his  army. 

"WELL,  what  is  to  come,  will  come  !"  said  poor 
Paddy,  when  going  to  the  gallows.  Even  so  was 
come,  as  would  seem,  the  time  that  was  to  come  for 
"kings  to  go  forth  to  battle."  The  truth  is, numbers 
of  poor  tax-ground,  and  thence  uneducated  and  half- 
starved  wretches  in  Britain  and  France,  were  become 
diseased  with  a  mortal  cachexy  or  surcharge  of  bad 
humours;  such  as  gambling,  swindling,  horse  steal- 
ing, highway  robbing,  &c.  which  nothing  but  the 
saturnine  pills  and  steel  points  of  Mars  could  effec- 
tually carry  off.  Thus  in  all  corrupted  governments 
war  is  considered  as  a  necessary  evil.  It  was  no 
doubt  necessary  then. 

Such  was  the  remote  cause.  The  proximate  his- 
tory, or  how  the  dance  begun,  we  now  proceed  to 
relate. 

We  have  just  seen  that  the  French,  pouring  down 
from  the  lakes  of  Canada,  thick  as  autumnal  geese, 
were  dashing  away  on  the  Ohio,  at  an  alarming  rate 
— multiplying  forts — holding  talks — and  strengthen- 
ing their  alliances  with  the  Indians.  And  we  have 
seen,  that  Washington,  with  letters  from  governor 
DmwidJie,  had  been  out  among  the  pariezvous, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  37 

conjuring  them  by  every  thing  venerable  ih  treaties, 
or  valuable  in  peace,  to  desist  from  such  unwarrant- 
able measures.  But  all  to  no  purpose :  for  the 
French  commandant,  smiling  at  Washington,  as  a 
green  horn,  and  at  Dinwiddie  as  an  old  fool,  conti 
nued  his  operations  as  vigorously  as  though  he  knew 
not  that  the  country  in  question  made  a  part  of  the 
British  empire. 

Swift  as  the  broad-winged  packets  could  fly  across 
the  deep,  the  news  was  carried  to  England.  Its  effect 
there  was  like  that  of  a  stone  rudely  hurled  against 
a  nest  of  hornets.  Instantly,  from  centre  to  circum- 
ference, all  is  rage  and  bustle — the  hive  resownds 
with  the  maddening  insects.  Dark  tumbling  from 
their  cells  they  spread  the  hasty  wing,  and  shrill 
whizzing  through  the  air,  they  rush  to  find  the  foe. 
Just  so  in  the  sea-ruling  island,  from  queens  house  lo 
ale-house,  from  king  to  cockney,  all  were  fierce  for 
fight.  Even  the  red-nosed  porters  where  they  met, 
bending  under  their  burdens,  would  stop  in  the 
streets,  to  talk  of  England's  wrong :  and,  as  they 
talked,  their  fiery  snouts  vere  seen  to  grow  more 
fiery  still,  and  more  deformed.  Then  throwing  their 
packs  to  the  ground,  and  leaping  into  the  attitude  of 
boxers,  with  sturdy  arms  across,  and  rough  black 
jaws  stretched  out,  they  bend  forward  to  the  fancied 
fight !  The  frog-eating  foe,  in  shirtless  ruffles  and 
long  lank  queue  seems  to  give  ground !  then  rising 
in  their  might,  with  fire-striking  eyes  they  press  hard 
upon  him;  and  coming  in,  hand  and  foot,  with  kick 
and  cuff,  and  many  a  hearty  curse,  they  show  the 
giggling  crowd,  how,  damn  'em,  they  would  thump 
the  French. 

The  news  was  brought  to  Britain's  king  just  as  he 
had  dispatched  his  pudding ;  and  sat,  right  royally 
amusing  himself  with  a  slice  of  Gloucester  and  a 
nip  of  ale.  From  the  lips  of  the  king  down  fell  the 
luckless  cheese,  alas !  not  grac'd  to  comfort  the 
fitomach  of  the  Lord's  anointed;  while,  crowned 

4 


£40455 


38  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

with  snowy  foam,  his  nut-brown  ale  stood  untasted 
beside  his  plate.  Suddenly  as  he  heard  the  news, 
the  monarch  darkened  in  his  place ;  and  answering 
darkness  shrouded  all  his  court. 

In  silence  he  roiled  his  eyes  of  fire  on  the  floor, 
and  twirled  his  terrible  thumbs!  his  pages  shrunk 
from  his  presence ;  for  who  could  stand  before  the 
king  of  thundering  ships,  when  wrath,  in  gleams  of 
lightning,  flashed  from  his  "dark  red  eyes?"  Starting 
at  length,  as  from  a  trance,  he  swallowed  his  ale : 
then  clenching  his  fist,  he  gave  the  table  a  tremendous 
knock,  and  cursed  the  wooden-shoed  nation  by  his 
God  !  Swift  as  he  cursed,  the  dogs  of  war  bounded 
from  their  kennels,  keen  for  the  chase :  and,  snuffing 
the  blood  of  Frenchmen  on  every  gale,  they  raised  a 
howl  of  death  which  reached  these  peaceful  shores. 
Orders  were  immediately  issued,  by  the  British 
government,  for  the  colonies  to  arm  and  unite  in  one 
confederacy.  Virginia  took  the  lead ;  and  raised  a 
regiment,  to  the  second  command  in  which  she  raised 
her  favourite  Washington.-  Colonel  Fry,  by  right 
of  seniority,  commanded  :  but  on  his  death,  which 
happened  soon  after  his  appointment,  Washington 
succeeded  to  the  command.  With  this  little  hand- 
ful, he  bravely  pushed  out  into  the  wilderness,  in 
quest  of  the  enemy ;  and  at  a  place  called  the  Little 
Meadows,  came  up  with  a  party  under  one  Ju- 
monville.  This  officer  was  killed,  and  all  his 
men  taken  prisoners. 

From  these  prisoners,  he  obtained  undoubted 
intelligence,  that  the  French  troops  on  the  Ohio 
consisted  of  upwards  of  a  thousand  regulars,  and 
many  hundreds  of  Indians.  But  notwithstanding 
this  disheartening  intelligence,  he  still  pressed  on 
undauntedly  against  the  enemy,  and,  at  a  place 
called  the  Great  Meadows,  built  a  fort,  which  he 
called  Fort  Necessity. 

Soon  as  the  lines  of  entrenchments  were  marked 
oft',  and  the  men  about  to  fall  to  work,  Washington 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  39 

seizing  the  hand  of  the  first  that  was  lifting  the  spade, 
cried  out  "  Stop,  my  brave  fellow  !  my  hand  must 
heave  the  first  earth  that  is  thrown  up  in  defence  of 
this  country !" 

Leaving  a  small  garrison  behind  him,  he  dashed 
on  for  Fort  Duquesrie,  (Fort  Pitt,)  hoping  by  the 
reduction  of  that  important  post,  to  strike  terror  into 
the  enemy,  and  defeat  their  plans.  But  though  this 
was  a  bold  stroke  of  generalship,  yet  it  appeared  that 
he  had  not  a  force,  sufficient  to  effect  it.  For  in  the 
midst  of  this  day's  march,  he  was  met  by  a  party  of 
friendly  Indians,  who,  running  up  to  him,  with  looks 
and  gestures  greatly  agitated,  cried  out :  "  Fly  !  fly  ! 
don't  look  behind  you!  your  enemies  are  upon  you, 
thick  as  the  pigeons  in  the  woods  !" 

Washington  called  a  council  of  his  officers,  who 
advised  an  immediate  return  to  Fort  Necessity,  which 
they  hardly  recovered  before  their  sentinels  fired  an 
alarm  ;  came  running  in;  and  stated  that  the  woods 
were  alive  with  Frenchmen  and  Indians  !  It  should 
have  been  observed,  that  the  dreadful  news  of  the 
day  before,  had  produced  so  shameful  a  desertion 
among  his  troops  in  the  course  of  the  night,  that 
when  the  enemy  attacked,  which  they  did  with  1500 
men,  Washington  had  but  300  to  stand  by  him. 
But  never  did  the  true  Virginia  valour  shine  more 
gloriously  than  on  this  trying  occasion — to  see  300 
young  fellows — commanded  by  a  smooth-faced  hoy 
— all  unaccustomed  to  the  terrors  of  war — far  from 
home — and  from  all  hope  of  help — shut  up  in  a 
dreary  wilderness — and  surrounded  by  five  times 
their  number  of  savage  foes,  yet  without  sign  of 
fear,  preparing  for  mortal  combat !  Scarcely  since 
the  days  of  Leonidas  and  his  three  hundred  deathless 
Spartans,  had  the  sun  beheld  its  equal.  With  hideous 
whoops  and  yells,  the  enemy  came  on  like  a,  host  of 
tigers.  The  woods  and  rocks,  and  tall  tree-tops, 
filled  with  Indians,  were  in  one  continued  blaze  and 
crash  of  fire-arms.  Nor  were  our  youthful  warriors 

4 


40  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

idle :  but  animated  by  their  youthful  commander, 
they  plied  their  rifles  with  such  spirit,  that  the  little 
fort  resembled  a  volcano  in  full  blast,  roaring  and 
discharging  thick  sheets  of  liquid  fire  and  of  leaden 
deaths  among  their  foes.  For  nine  glorious  hours, 
salamander-like,  enveloped  in  smoke  and  flames, 
they  sustained  the  attack  of  the  enemy's  whole  force, 
and  laid  two  hundred  of  them  dead  on  the  spot ! 
Discouraged  by  such  desperate  resistance,  the  French 
general,  the  Count  de  Villiers,  sent  in  a  flag  to 
Washington,  highly  extolling  his  gallantry,  and  offer- 
ing him  the  most  honourable  terms.  It  was  stipulated, 
that  Washington  and  his  little  band  of  heroes,  should 
march  away  with  all  the  honours  of  war,  and  carry 
with  them  their  military  stores  and  baggage. 

On  their  return  to  the  bosom  of  their  country, 
they  were  every  where  received  with  the  praises 
which  they  had  so  well  deserved.  The  Legislature 
voted  the  thanks  of  the  nation  to  Washington  and 
his  officers;  with  a  pistole  to  each  of  his  men,  about 
300. 

In  the  course  of  the  following  winter,  notice  was 
given  from  the  mother  country,  that  American 
officers,  acting  with  the  British,  should  bear  no 
command  !  !  Hence  the  poorest  shoat,  if  wearing 
the  proud  epaulette  of  a  Briton,  might  command  a 
Wolfe,  if  so  unlucky  as  to  be  an  American  !  ! ! 
Incensed  at  such  an  outrage  on  common  justice,  and 
the  rights  of  his  countrymen,  Washington  threw  up 
his  commission,  and  retired  to  his  plantation,  Mount 
Vernon,  lately  left  him  by  his  brother  Lawrence. 
Here,  Cincinnatus-like,  he  betook  him  to  his  favorite 
plough.  But  the  season  called  for  the  sword ;  and 
he  was  now  risen  too  high  to  be  overlooked  in  times 
like  those  when  troubles  and  fears  began,  to  darken 
over  all  the  land. 

The  report  of  his  gallant  but  unsuccessful  struggle 
with  the  French  and  Indians,  soon  reached  England : 
and  the  ministry  thinking  the  colonies  ak)ne  too 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  41 

weak  to  repel  the  enemy,  hurried  on  General  Brad- 
dock,  with  two  heavy  regiments,  to  their  aid.  This 
reinforcement  arrived  early  in  the  spring  of  1755. 
Leaving  them  at  the  Capes  on  their  way  up  to 
Belle-haven,  (now  Alexandria,)  Braddock  called  at 
Williamsburgh,  to  see  Governor  Dinwiddie,  who 
attended  him  to  Alexandria. 

"  Where  is  Colonel  Washington  ?"  said  General 
Braddock.  "  I  long  to  see  him." 

"  He  is  retired  from  the  service,  Sir,"  replied  the 
Governor. 

*'  Retired  !  Sir !"  continued  the  General,  "  Colonel 
Washington  retired  !  pray,  Sir,  what's  the  reason  ?" 

On  hearing  the  cause,  he  broke  into  a  passion  against 
ihe  order  from  the  war-office  as  a  shameful  piece  of 
partiality — and  extolled  Colonel  Washington  as  "a 
young  man  of  sense  and  spirit,  who  knew  and  asserted 
his  rights  as  became  a  soldier  and  a  British  subject." 

He  then  wrote  to  Washington,  whom  he  pressingly 
invited  to  join  his  army,  and  accept  the  rank  of  a 
volunteer  aid-de-camp  in  his  own  family.  This 
invitation  was  cheerfully  accepted  by  our  young 
countryman,  who  waited  on  General  Braddock  as 
soon  as  he  heard  of  his  arrival  at  Alexandria.  About 
the  same  time,  three  companies  of  excellent  Virginia 
marksmen,  raised  by  order  of  the  Legislature,  arrived 
at  the  British  camp. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  June,  1755,  that  the  army, 
upwards  of  2000  strong,  left  Alexandria ;  and,  with 
their  faces  to  the  west,  began  their  march  to  the 
mournful  ditty  of  "over  the  hills  and  far  away."  On 
the  route  Washington  was  taken  sick ;  and  by  the 
time  they  had  reached  the  Little  Meadows,  had 
become  so  very  ill,  that  Braddock,  at  the  instance  of 
the  physicians,  insisted  most  peremptorily  that  he 
should  lie  by  until  Colonel  Dunbar  with  the  rear  ol 
the  army  came  up.  With  great  reluctance  he  yielded 
to  their  wishes.  But  so  great  were  his  fears  for  the 
army,  lest  in  those  wild  woods  it  should  fall  into 
some  Indian  sore,  that  the  moment  his  fever  left 


4fi  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

him,  fie  mounted  his  horse,  and  pursued,  and  over- 
took them  the  very  evening  before  they  fell  into  that 
ambuscade  which  he  had  all  along  dreaded.  For 
the  next  morning,  the  9th  of  July,  when  they  were 
safely  arrived  within  seven  miles  of  Fort  Duquesne ! 
and  so  confident  of  success,  that  their  general  swore 
he  would  that  night  sup  either  in  Fort  Duquesne  or 
in  the  lower  regions — behold,  the  Virginia  Rangers 
discovered  signs  of  Indians. 

Here  Washington,  with  his  usual  modesty,  observ 
ed  to  General  Braddock  what  sort  of  an  enemy  he 
had  now  to  deal  with — an  enemy  who  would  not, 
like  the  Europeans,  come  forward  to  a  fair  contest  in 
the  field,  but  concealed  behind  the  rocks  and  trees, 
carry  on  a  deadly  warfare  with  their  rifles.  He 
concluded  with  these  words,  "I  beg  of  your  excel- 
lency the  honour  to  allow  me  to  lead  on  with  the 
Virginia  Riflemen,  and  fight  them  in  their  own  way." 

Had  it  been  decreed  that  this  hapless  army  should 
have  been  saved,  this  was  the  counsel  to  have  effected 
it.  But  it  would  seem,  alas !  that  heaven  had 
ordained  their  fall  in  that  distant  land  ;  and  there 
with  their  flesh  to  fatten  the  wolves  and  vultures  on 
the  hills  of  Monongahela.  For  General  Braddock, 
who  had  all  along  treated  the  American  officers  with 
infinite  contempt,  rejected  Washington's  counsel,  and 
swelling  with  most  unmanly  rage,  replied,  "  High 

times,  by High  times!  when  a  young  Buckskin 

can  teach  a  British  General  how  to  fight !"  Instantly 
the  pale,  fever-worn  cheeks  of  Washington  turned 
fiery  red.  But  smothering  his  feelings,  he  rode 
towards  his  men,  biting  his  lips  with  grief  and  rage, 
to  think  how  many  brave  fellows  would  draw  short 
breath  that  day  through  the  pride  and  obstinacy  of 
one  epauletted  madman.  Formed  in  heavy  columns 
the  troops  continued  to  advance.  A  little  beyond 
the  Monongahela, was  a  narrow  defile, through  which 
^ay  their  road,  with  moss-grown  rocks  on  either  side, 
and  aged  trees  that  spread  an  awful  shade.  Here, 
in  perfect  ymcealment,  the  French  and  Indians  lay, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  43 

waiting  impatiently  for  this  devoted  army.  Too 
soon,  alas  !  the  army  came  up,  and  entering  the  defile, 
moved  along  in  silence,  like  sheep  to  the  slaughter 
little  dreaming  how  close  the  bloody  fates  hovered 
around  them.  Thinking  their  prey  now  completely 
in  their  clutches,  all  at  once,  the  Indians  set  up  tho 
most  hideous  yells,  as  if  the  woods  were  filled  with 
ten  thousand  panthers.  This  they  did,  both  as  a 
terror  to  the  British,  and  a  signal  to  attack ;  for  in 
the  same  moment  they  poured  in  a  general  fire,  which 
instantly  covered  the  ground  with  death  in  every 
hideous  shape.  Some  were  seen  sinking  pale  and 
lifeless  at  once,  giving  up  the  ghost  with  only  a 
hollow  groan — others  rolling  on  the  earth,  cciivulsed 
and  shrieking  in  the  last  agonies,  while  life  and  life's 
warm  blood  together  gushed  in  hissing  torrents  from 
their  breasts.  Such  sights  of  their  bleeding  comrades, 
had  the  enemy  but  been  in  view,  instead  of  depress- 
ing would  but  have  inflamed  British  blood  with 
fiercer  thirst  for  vengeance.  But,  alas !  to  be  thus 
entrapped  in  a  dreary  wild !  to  be  thus  pent  up,  and 
shot  from  behind  rocks  and  trees,  by  an  invisible 
enemy,  was  enough  to  dismay  the  stoutest  hearts. 
Their  native  valour,  however,  and  confidence  i«i 
themselves,  did  not  at  once  forsake  them.  But, 
animated  by  their  officers,  they  stood  their  ground, 
and  for  a  considerable  time  fought  like  heroes.  But 
seeing  no  impression  made  by  their  fire,  while  that 
of  the  enemy,  heavy  as  at  first,  with  fatal  flashes 
continued  to  cut  down  their  ranks,  they  at  length 
took  a  panic,  and  fell  into  great  confusion.  Happily, 
on  the  left,  where  lay  the  deadliest  fire,  Washington's 
rangers  were  posted  ;  but  not  exposed  like  the 
British.  For,  on  hearing  the  horrible  savage  yells. 
in  a  moment  they  flew  each  to  his  tree,  like  the 
Indians ;  and  like  them,  each  levelled  his  rifle,  and 
with  as  deadly  aim.  This,  through  a  kind  Provi 
dence,  saved  Braddock's  army;  for  exulting  in  their 
confusion,  the  savages,  grimly  painted,  yelling  like 
furies,  burst  from  their  coverts,  eager  to  glut  th?i 

4* 


44  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

hellish  rage  with  a  total  massacre  of  the  British    But, 
faithful  to  their  friends,Washingfon's  rangers  stepped 
forth  with  joy  to  meet  the  assailants.     Then  rose  a 
scene  sufficient  to  fill  the  stoutest  heart  with  horror. 
Burning  alike  for  vengeance,  both   parties  throw 
aside   the  slow-murdering    rifles,  and   grasp   their 
swift -fated    tomahawks.       Dreadfully   above    their 
heads  gleams  the    brandished  steel,  as  with   full 
exerted  limbs,  and  faces  all  inflamed  with  mortal 
hate,  they  level   at  each  other  their   last   decisive 
blows.     Death  rages  through  all  their  fast-thinning 
ranks — his  bleeding  victims  are  rolled  together  on 
every  side.      Here  falls  the  brave   Virginia   Blue, 
under  the  stroke  of  his  nimbler  foe — and  there,  man 
on  man  the  Indians  perish  beneath  the  furious  toma- 
hawks, deep  buried  in  the  shattered  brain.    But  who 
can  tell  the  joy  of  Washington,  when  he  saw  this 
handful  of  his  despised  countrymen  thus  gallantly 
defending  their  British  friends,  and  by  dint  of  mortal 
steel  driving  back  their  blood    thirsty   assailants. 
Happy  check  !  for  by  this  time,  covered  with  wounds 
Braddock  had  fallen — his  aids  and  officers,  to  a  man, 
killed  or  wounded — and  his  troops,  in  hopeless,  help- 
less despair,  flying  backwards  and  forwards  from  the 
fire  of  the  Indians,  like  flocks  of  crowding  sheep  from 
the  presence  of  their  butchers.     Washington  alone 
remained  unhurt  !      Horse   after  horse   had  been 
killed  under  him.     Showers  of  bullets  had  touched 
his  locks  or  pierced  his  regimentals.     But  still  pro- 
tected by  heaven — still  supported  by  a  strength  not 
his  own,  he  had  continued  to  fly  from  quarter  to 
quarter,  where  his  presence  was  most  needed,  some- 
times animating  his  rangers ;  sometimes  striving,  but 
m  vain,  to  rally  the  regulars.     'Twas  his  lot  to  be 
clo^e  to  the  brave  but  imprudent  Braddock  when  he 
fell ;  and  he  assisted  to  place  him  in  a  tumbril,  cr 
little  cart.    As  he  was  laid  down,  pale  and  near  spent, 
with  \oss  of  blood,  he  faintly  said  to  Washington— 
"  Well,  Colonel,  what's  to  be  done  now  ?" 


DEFEAT   OF    GENERAL    BRADDOCK. 


LIFE  0*   WASHINGTON.  47 

•«  Retreat,  Sir,"  replied  Washington  :  "  retreat  by 
all  means;  for  the  Regulars  won't  fight;  and  the 
Rangers  are  nearly  all  killed  !" 

"Poor  fellows!"  he  replied,  "poor  fellows! — 
Well,  do  as  you  will,  Colonel,  do  as  you  will." 

The  array  then  commenced  its  retreat,  in  a  very- 
rapid  and  disorderly  manner,  while  Washington  with 
his  few  surviving  rangers,  covered  the  rear. 

Happily,  the  Indians  did  not  pursue  them  far:  but 
after  firing  a  few  random  shots,  returned  in  a  body, 
to  fall  upon  the  plunder ;  while  Washington,  with 
his  frightened  fugitives  continued  their  retreat,  sadly 
remembering  that  more  than  one  half  of  their  morn- 
ing's gay  companions  were  left  a  prey  to  the  ravening 
beasts  of  the  desert.  There,  denied  the  common 
charities  of  the  grave,  they  lay  for  many  a  year 
bleaching  the  lonely  hills  with  their  bones. 

On  reaching  Fort  Cumberland,  where  they  met 
Colonel  D  unbar  with  the  rear  of  the  army,  General 
Braddock  died.  He  died  in  the  arms  of  Washington, 
whose  pardon  he  often  begged  for  having  treated 
him  so  rudely  that  fatal  morning — heartily  wished, 
he  said,  he  had  but  followed  his  advice — frequently 
called  his  rangers  "  brave  fellows  !  glorious  fellows  !" 
Often  said,  he  should  be  glad  to  live  if  it  was  only  to 
reward  their  gallantry  !  I  have  more  than  once  been 
told,  but  cannot  vouch  for  the  truth  of  it,  that  his 
sister,  on  hearing  how  obstinately  Washington  and 
his  Blues  had  fought  for  her  brother,  was  so  affected 
that  she  shed  tears :  and  sent  them  from  England 
handsome  cockades,  according  to  their  number,  and 
a  pair  of  colours  elegantly  wrought  by  her  own  fair 
hands. 

With  respect  to  Washington,  I  cannot  but  mention 
here  two  very  extraordinary  speeches  that  were 
made  about  him,  after  Braddock's  defeat,  and  which, 
as  things  have  turned  out,  look  a  good  deal  like  pro- 
phecies. A  famous  Indian  warrior,  who  acted  a 
ie-xding  part  in  that  bloody  tragedy,  was  often  heard 


4«J  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

to  swear,  that  "  Washington  was  never  born  to  be 
Killed  by  a  bullet!  For," continued  he  "I  had  seven- 
teen fair  fires  at  him  with  my  rifle,  and  after  all  could 
not  bring  him  to  the  ground  !"  And  indeed  whoever 
considers  that  a  good  rifle  levelled  by  a  proper  marks- 
man, hardly  ever  misses  its  aim,  will  readily  enough 
conclude  with  this  unlettered  savage,  that  there  was 
some  invisible  hand  that  turned  aside  the  bullets. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Davies,  in  a  sermon  occasioned  by 
Braddock's  defeat,  has  these  remarkable  words — "  I 
beg  leave  to  point  the  attention  of  the  public  to  that 
heroic  youth  Colonel  Washington,  whom  I  cannot 
but  hope  Providence  has  preserved  for  some  great 
service  to  this  country  !  !" 

But  though  the  American  writers  have  pretty 
unanimously  agreed,  that  Washington  was,  under 
God,  the  saving  Angel  that  stood  up  between  Brad- 
dock's  army  and  total  destruction,  yet  did  it  profit 
him  but  little  with  his  sovereign.  The  British  officers 
indeed  admired  him  :  but  they  had  no  idea  of  going 
any  farther:  "To  tell  in  Gath,  or  publish  in  the 
streets  of  Askalon"  that  a  British  army  owed  its 
safety  to  a  young  Buckskin,  required  a  pitch  of  virtue 
and  of  courage  above  ordinary  minds.  Washington 
was  therefore  kept  in  the  back  ground  ;  and  General 
Braddock  being  dead,  the  command  devolved  upon 
Colonel  Dunbar,  whose  conduct  proved  him  to  be 
one  of  those  pusillanimous  hirelings,  who  flee  when 
the  wolf  cometh.  To  attempt,  by  some  gallant  effort 
to  recover  wiiat  Braddock  had  lost, — or  to  hang  upon 
the  enemy,  and  prevent,  at  least,  those  numerous 
scalping  parties,  which  distracted  with  midnight 
murders  and  deluged  the  defenceless  frontiers  with 
blood,  were  brave  and  generous  ideas,  of  which  he 
seemed  incapable.  But,  trembling  under  the  general 
panic,  he  instantly  ordered  the  tents  to  be  struck ; 
and  pushing  oft'  under  the  whip  and  spur  of  his  fears, 
never  halted  until  he  had  reached  Philadelphia ; 
where  he  went,  as  he  called  it,  into  winter  quarters. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  49 

(in  the  beginning  of  the  dog-days  !)  leaving  all  the 
frontiers  of  Maryland  and  Virginia  exposed  to  the 
merciless  tomahawk. 

Such  facts'  ought  to  be  recorded  for  the  benefit  oi 
young  men,  who,  with  no  military  qualifications  but 
big  limbs,  can  yet  covet  red  coats  and  shoulder-knots. 

Being  thus  shamefully  deserted  by  Colonel  Dun- 
bar,  Washington  with  his  thirty  rangers,  set  out  with 
sorrowful  hearts  to  return  home.  But  before  he  left 
Fort  Cumberland,  he  dispatched  an  express,  to  inform 
Governor  Dinwiddie,  that  "  General  Braddock  was 
slain — his  army  totally  defeated — the  remnant  on 
their  march  to  Philadelphia — and  the  whole  frontier 
given  up  to  the  Indians  !"  The  consternation  that 
was  spread  throughout  the  country  by  this  news, 
was  inexpressible.  Heart-sickening  terrors,  as  of  a 

woman  in  labour,  seized  upon  all  families and  a 

frightened  fancy  found  food  for  its  fears  in  every 
thing  around  it — the  blast  whistling  round  the  cor- 
ners of  their  cabin,  alarmed,  like  the  yell  of  murder- 
ous savages — the  innocent  death-bell — the  croaking 

raven — the  midnight  howl  of  dogs were  all  sure 

harbingers  of  fate.  While,  for  dread  of  the  Indians, 
the  roads  were  filled  with  thousands  of  distracted 
parents,  with  their  weeping  little  ones,  flying  from 
their  homes. 

The  Governor  instantly  ordered  a  call  of  the  Le- 
gislature, who,  by  the  time  Washington  reached 
Williamsburgh,  were  assembled,  and,  together  with 
numbers  of  citizens,  went  out  and  met  him  near  the 
•own. 

The  interview  was  tender.  For  the  citizens  were 
almost  moved  to  tears,  when  they  saw  that  of  so  many 
of  their  brave  countrymen  who  went  forth  to  battle, 
only  this  little  handful  remained  !  They  were  exceed 
mgly  rejoiced  to  see,  alive,  and  well,  their  beloved 
Washington.  He  had  always  been  dear  to  them ;  but 
now  doubly  dear,  in  such  times  of  danger.  They 
mourned  the  misfortunes  of  their  country  ;  tut  laid 

5 


50  JLl*^  OF   WAbHlJNLrTON. 

no  blame  to  him.     On  the  contrary,  it  was  universal 
[y  believed,  that,  but  for  him  the  ruin  would  have 
been  complete.     "  Braddock,"  said  they,  "  lost  the» 
victory  :  but  Washington  saved  the  army." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Fatal  effects  of  Braddock's  defeat — Washington  wishes  to  carry  the 
war  into  the  Indian  country — government  refuses — defensive  war 
preferred — the  frontiers  desolated. 

GREAT  was  the  joy  at  Fort  Duquesne  on  the  re- 
turn of  their  troops  from  the  slaughter  of  Braddock's 
army.  The  idea  of  victory,  as  appeared  afterwards, 
had  never  once  entered  their  heads. — They  had  gone 
out  just  to  reconnoitre,  and  harass  the  British  in  their 
approach  !  How  unbounded  then  must  have  been  the 
joy  of  the  garrison,  on  seeing  their  friends  come  back 
next  morning,  not  sad  and  spiritless,  as  had  been 
expected,  but  whooping  and  shouting  for  a  glorious 
victory ;  and  enriched  with  the  artillery,  ammunition, 
provisions,  and  baggage-waggons  of  a  British  army 
cut  to  pieces  ! ! 

The  French  commandant  took  care  to  make  a 
proper  use  of  his  advantage  ;  for  as  soon  as  the  days 
of  savage  feasting  and  drunkenness  were  over,  he 
sent  out  deputations  of  his  chiefs  with  grand-talks  to 
several  of  the  neighbouring  tribes,  who  had  not  yet 
lifted  the  hatchet. 

The  tribes  being  assembled,  and  the  caiumet  01 
pipe  of  friendship  smoked  around,  the  chiefs  arose  ; 
and  in  all  the  pomp  of  Indian  eloquence  announced 
their  great  victory  over  Long  Knife  (the  Virginians) 
and  his  white  brothers,  (the  British) — then  with  a 
proud  display  of  the  numerous  scalps  and  rich  dresses 
which  they  had  taken,  they  concluded  with  in  nting 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  51 

the  yo  ing  men  to  unbury  the  tomahawk,  and  rush 
with  them  to  drink  the  blood  of  their  enemies. 

This  was  enough — "  Grinning  horribly  a  ghastly 
smile,"  at  such  prospects  of  blood  and  plunder,  the 
grim  children  of  the  desert,  rose  up  at  once  to  war. 
No  time  was  lost  in  preparation.  A  pouch  of  parch- 
ed corn,  and  a  bear-skin,  with  a  rifle,  tomahawk, 
and  scalping  knife,  were  their  equipage.  And  in  a 
few  weeks  after  Braddock's  defeat,  an  army  of  at 
least  fourteen  hundred  of  those  blood-thirsty  savages 
were  in  full  march  over  hills  and  mountains,  to  sur- 
prise and  murder  the  frontier  inhabitants. 

Washington  had  early  foreseen  the  storm  that 
would  one  day  burst  from  Fort  Da  Quesne.  On  his 
first  trip  through  that  country,  two  years  before,  b.3 
had  marked  the  very  spot,  and  pointed  it  out  as  "  the 
key  of  the  western  world."  But  Britain  and  America, 
(like  the  wild  ass  and  her  colts,  though  mule-stubborn 
in  acting,  yet  snail-slow  to  act,)  let  the  golden  chance 
escape ;  till  one  Du  Quesne,  a  French  officer,  with 
some  troops,  passing  along  that  way  in  1754,  and 
struck,  as  Washington  had  been,  with  the  situation, 
immediately  built  thereon  a  fort,  which  he  called 
after  his  own  name.  It  answered  the  fatal  purposes 
which  Washington  had  predicted.  By  means  of  the 
bold  water  courses  on  which  it  stood,  it  greatly 
favoured  the  conveyance  both  of  goods  and  of  intelli- 
gence. There  the  French  laid  up  magazines  for  then 
Indian  allies,  and  there  they  hoisted  the  dread  signals 
of  war. 

Not  having  been  able  to  prevail  on  his  countrymen 
to  occupy  it  before  the  enemy,  Washington's  whole 
ambition  now  was  to  take  it  from  them.  "Send  two 
thousand  men," — said  he,  in  numerous  importunate 
letters  to  the  Governor  and  Legislature,  "  send  two 
thousand  men,  and  drain  the  fountain  at  once — the 
streams  will  fail  of  course." 

But,  spite  of  this  advice,  the  mad  policy  of  a 
defensive  vrar  prevailed  in  the  Virginia  Government 


52  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

and  instead  of  raising  2000  men,  they  voted  to  raise 
about  half  that  number !  and  then,  like  hypocrites 
who  make  up'in  lip-service  what  they  lack  in  good 
works,  they  dubbed  him  Commander  in  chief  of  all 
the  troops  raised  or  to  be  raised  in  Virginia,  with  the 
privilege  of  naming  his  own  field  officers  ! 

These  vain  honours  served  but  to  exalt  him  to  a 
higher  sphere  of  misery — the  misery  of  taking  a  wider 
survey  of  thos«,  misfortunes  of  his  country  which  he 
could  not  remedy, — and  to  feel  a  deeper  responsibility 
for  those  blunders  of  others,  vvhich  he  could  not  cure. 
He  saw  Fort  Duquesne  mustering  her  murderers, 
which  he  had  no  powers  to  prevent !  He  had  a  fron- 
tier of  360  miles  to  defend,  and  generally  less  than 
700  men  to  defend  it  with  !  If  he  kept  his  troops  em- 
bodied, the  whole  country  would  be  left  open  to  the 
savages.  If  he  broke  them  down  into  small  parties, 
they  might  be  destroyed  one  after  another,  by  a  su- 
perior force.  If  he  threw  them  into  forts,  they  were 
sure  to  be  starved ;  or  derided  by  the  enemy,  who 
could  easily  pass  them  in  the  night  and  surprise, 
destroy,  and  murder  the  inhabitants  with  impunity. 
And  though  thus  completely  crippled  by  the  stupidity 
or  parsimony  of  the  government,  and  incapacitated 
from  doing  any  services  for  his  country,  yet  great 
services  were  expected  of  him,  and  great  blame  bes- 
towed for  every  failure.  If  no  victories  were  gained 
over  the  enemy,  he  would  be  blamed  for  inactivity. 
If  the  settlers  were  murdered,  he  would  be  accused 
of  neglect — and  if  he  pointed  out  the  errors  of  gov- 
ernment, he  would  be  charged  as  "officious"  and 
"  impertinent ;"  and  this  while  young  officers  of  the 
worthless  sort,  mere  cork-drawers  and  songsters  at 
great  men's  tables,  were  basely  cutting  in  with  a 
weak  old  governor's  prejudices,  to  work  him  out, 
and  to  worm  themselves  into  favour  and  rank. 

But  all  these  vexations  and  sorrows  were  but  trifles* 
in  comparison  of  others  which  he  was  doomed  to 
teel.  Seeing  no  hopes  of  a  force  sufficient  to  attack 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  53 

fort  Duquesne,he  formed  a  chain  of  garrisons  along 
the  frontier ;  and  then,  with  a  flying  corps  of  the 
most  active  and  daring  young  men,  continued  night 
and  day,  to  scour  the  country  in  quest  of  the  enemy's 
murdering  parties.  In  this  bold  and  dangerous 
employment,  which  lasted  almost  three  years,  he  was 
often  presented  with  sights  of  human  destruction, 
sufficient  to  excite  sympathy  in  hearts  of  flintiest  stone. 

On  cautiously  entering  the  hapless  plantation  with 
his  men,  they  halt  and  listen  awhile — but  hear  no 
voice  of  man — see  no  house,  nor  sign  of  habitation — 
all  is  void  and  silent.  Marking  the  buzzards  perched 
on  the  trees  in  the  corn-fields,  they  approach,  and  find, 
lying  by  his  plough,  the  half-devoured  carcass  of  a 
man.  The  hole  in  his  breast  shows  that  he  had  been 
shot,  while  the  deep  gashes  in  the  forehead  of  his 
dead  horses,  point  out  the  bursting  strokes  of  the 
tomahawk.  Amidst  the  ashes  of  the  late  dwelling, 
are  seen,  white  as  chalk,  the  bones  of  the  mother  and 
tier  children.  But  sometimes  their  raw  and  bloody 
skeletons,  fed  on  by  the  hogs,  are  found  in  the  yards 
or  gardens  where  they  were  surprised. 

•'  One  day" — said  he  to  an  intimate  ;  though  it  was 
out  seldom  that  he  mentioned  those  things,  they  gave 
nim  so  much  pain — "  One  day,  as  we  drew  near 
through  the  woods,  to  a  dwelling,  suddenly  we  heard 
the  discharge  of  a  gun.  Whereupon  quickening  our 
pace,  and  creeping  up  through  the  thick  bushes  to  a 
fence,  we  saw  what  we  had  dreaded — a  party  of 
Indians,  loaded  with  plunder,  coming  out  of  a  house, 
which,  by  the  smoke,  appeared  as  if  it  were  just  set 
on  fire.  In  a  moment  we  gave  the  savages  a  shower 
of  rifle  balls,  which  killed  every  man  of  them  but 
one.  He  attempted  to  run  off.  It  was  in  vain. 
Some  of  our  swift-footed  hunters  gave  chase,  and 
soon  overtook  and  immolated  him  with  their  toma- 
hawks. On  rushing  into  the  house,  and  putting  out 
the  fire,  we  saw  a  mournful  sight  indeed — a  young 
woman  lying  on  a  bed  floating  in  blood — her  foie- 
5*  5 


54  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

head  cleft  with  a  hatchet — and  on  her  breast  two 
little  children,  apparently  twins,  and  about  nine 
months  old,  bathing  her  bosom  with  the  crimson 
currents  flowing  from  their  deeply  gashed  heads  !  1 
had  often  beheld  the  mangled  remains  of  my  mur- 
dered countrymen ;  but  never  before  felt  what  I  did 
on  this  occasion.  To  see  these  poor  innocents— 
these  little  unoffending  angels,  just  entered  upon  life, 
and,  instead  of  fondest  sympathy  and  tenderness, 
meeting  their  hideous  deaths ;  and  from  hands  of 
brothers  too  !  filled  my  soul  with  the  deepest  horror 
of  sin  !  but  at  the  same  time  inspired  a  most  adoring 
sense  of  that  religion  which  announces  the  Redeemer, 
who  shall,  one  day,  do  away  man's  malignant 
passions,  and  restore  the  children  of  God  to  primeval 
love  and  bliss.  Without  this  hope,  what  man  of  feel 
ing  but  would  wish  he  had  never  been  born ! 

On  tracing  back  into  the  corn-field  the  steps  of  the 
barbarians,  we  found  a  little  boy,  and  beyond  him 
his  father,  both  weltering  in  blood.  It  appeared, 
from  the  print  of  his  little  feet  in  the  furrows,  that  the 
child  had  been  following  his  father's  plough ;  and, 
seeing  him  shot  down,  had  set  off  with  all  his  might,  to 
get  to  the  house  to  his  mother ;  but  was  overtaken 
and  destroyed ! 

"  And,  indeed,  so  great  was  the  dread  entertained 
of  the  French  and  Indians,  throughout  the  settle- 
ments, that  it  was  distressing  to  call  even  on  those 
families  who  yet  survived,  but,  from  sickness  or  other 
causes,  had  not  been  able  to  get  away.  The  poor 
creatures  would  run  to  meet  us,  like  persons  half 

distracted  with  joy and  then  with  looks  blank 

with  terror,  would  tell  that  such  or  such  a  neigh- 
bour's family,  perhaps  the  very  night  before,  was 
murdered ! — and  that  they  heard  their  cries  ! — and 
saw  the  flames  that  devoured  their  houses ! — and 
also,  that  they  themselves,  after  saying  their  prayer? 
at  night,  never  lay  down  to  sleep,  without  first  taking 
leave  of  one  another,  as  if  they  never  expected  tc 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  53 

«aeet  again  in  this  world.  But  when  we  came  to 
take  our  leave  of  these  wretched  families,  my  God  ! 
what  were  our  feelings !  to  see  the  deep,  silent  grief 
of  the  men ;  and  the  looks  of  the  poor  women  and 
children,  as,  falling  upon  their  knees,  with  piercing 
screams,  and  eyes  wild  with  terror,  they  seized  our 
Hands,  or  hung  to  our  clothes,  intreating  us,  for  God's 
sake,  and  for  mercy  sake,  not  to  leave  them.  I 
remember,  "  These  things  so  harrassed  my  heart 
with  grief,  that  I  solemnly  declare  to  God,  if  I  know 
myself,  I  would  gladly  offer  my  own  life  a  sacrifice 
to  the  butchering  enemy,  if  I  could  thereby  insure 
Ihe  safety  of  these  my  poor  distressed  countrymen. 

Such  were  the  scenes  in  which  Washington  was 
doomed  to  spend  three  years  of  a  wretched  life,  ren- 
dered still  more  wretched  by  knowing  so  perfectly 
as  he  did,  that  the  rapid  charge  of  two  thousand  brave 
fellows  upon  Fort  Duquesne,  like  the  thundering 
shock  of  a  two-and-forty  pounder  upon  a  water-spout, 
would  have  instantly  dispersed  the  fatal  meteor,  and 
restored  the  golden  hours  of  peace  and  safety.  But 
to  give  Colonel  Washington  two  thousand  men, 
seemed  to  old  governor  Dinwiddie,  like  giving  the 
staff  out  of  his  own  hand,  as  he  elegantly  called  it; 
and  rather  than  do  that,  he  would  risk  the  desolation 
of  the  western  country,  by  continuing  a  defensive 
war,  and  a  mad  dependence  on  a  disorderly  militia, 
who  would  come  and  go  as  they  pleased— get  drunk 
and  sleep  when  they  pleased — whoop  and  halloo 
where  they  pleased — and,  in  short,  serve  no  other 
purpose  on  earth  but  to  disgrace  their  officers,  deceive 
the  settlers,  and  defraud  the  public.  Indeed  so 
ruinous  were  these  measures  of  governors  Dinwiddie 
and  Loudon,  that,  in  the  short  space  of  three  years, 
they  completely  broke  up  all  the  fine  young  settle- 
ments to  the  westward  of  Winchester, Fredericktown, 
and  Carlisle,  whereby  numbers  of  poor  people  were 
butchered !  hundreds  of  rich  plantations  deserted ! 
myriads  of  produce  lost !  and  thousands  oi  dollar* 


56  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

sunfc!  and  all  for  the  sake  of  saving  the  paltry 
expense  of  raising  in  the  first  instance  a  force  which 
would  in  ten  weeks  have  taken  Fort  Duquesne,  and 
completely  broken  up  that  den  of  thieves  and  mur- 
derers ! 

At  length,  in  1758,  the  government  of  Virginia 
devolved  on  general  Forbes,  who,  to  the  infinite 
satisfaction  of  Washington,  consented  to  second  hia 
views  on  Fort  Duquesne.  Washington  earnestly 
recommended  an  early  campaign,  lest  the  Indian 
warriors  who  were  to  meet  them  in  April  at  Winches- 
ter, should  grow  tired  of  waiting,  and  return  home. 
But  the  season  was,  unfortunately,  so  idled  away, 
that  marching  orders  were  not  given  till  the  first  of 
September,  when,  according  to  Washington's  pre- 
diction, there  was  not  a  red  man  to  be  found  in  camp. 
The  army  then  commenced  its  movements,  but  still 
as  would  seem,  under  the  frown  of  heaven. 

For  instead  of  sweeping  along  the  old  track,  gene- 
rally called  Braddock's  road,  Gen.  Forbes  was  per- 
suaded to  take  an  entirely  new  route,  of  which  every 
inch  was  to  be  cut  through  wilds  and  mountains 
covered  with  rocks  and  trees  !  In  vain  Washington 
remonstrated  against  this  as  a  measure,  "  which"  he 
said,  "  if  persisted  in  at  this  late  season,  would 
certainly  ruin  the  undertaking." — General  Forbes 
was  inflexible. 

In  a  letter  to  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Burges- 
ses, Washington  has  these  remarkable  words — « If 
this  conduct  of  our  leaders,  do  not  flow  from  superior 
orders,  it  must  flow  from  a  weakness,  too  gross  for 
me  to  name.  Nothing  now  but  a  miracle  can  bring 
this  campaign  to  a  happy  issue."  In  a  letter  of  a 
later  date  he  says,  "  well,  all's  lost !  our  enterprise  is 
ruined  !  And  we  shall  be  stopped  this  winter  at  the 
Laurel  Hills  !" 

By  the  middle  of  November,  after  incredible  exer- 
tions, the  army,  sure  enough,  reached  the  Laurel 
Hills,  where  Washington  predicted  it  would  winter  • 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  57 

and  strange  to  tell !  General  Forbes,  with  a  caucus 
squad  of  his  officers  were  actually  in  deep  debate, 
whether  they  should  spend  the  winter  in  that  inhos- 
pitable wild,  or  tread  back  their  mournful  steps  to 
Winchester,  when  some  prisoners  b?  ought  the  wel- 
come news  that  the  garrison  of  Fort  Duquesne,  for 
a  long  time  past  unsupported  by  their  countrymen, 
and  now  deserted  by  the  Indians,  was  so  reduced, 
that  they  would  surrender  at  the  sight  of  an  enemy. 
General  Forbes  instantly  changed  his  mind,  and  with 
a  select  detachment  made  a  push  for  Fort  Duquesne, 
the  ruins  of  which  he  entered,  without  opposition,  on 
the  28th  of  November,  1758.  For,  advertised  of  his 
approach,  the  French  determined  to  quit  it;  and 
after  having  set  fire  to  the  buildings,  embarked  in 
their  boats,  and  went  down  the  river. 

Having  thus,  after  three  years  of  labour  and 
sorrow,  attained  his  favourite  wish — the  reduction  of 
Fort  Duquesne  and  a  total  dispersion  of  the  savages, 
Washington  returned  with  joy  to  Williamsburgh,  to 
take  his  seat  in  the  legislature,  to  which  he  hud  been 
regularly  chosen  in  his  absence. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  because  it  happens  but  to 
few,  that  though  he  often  failed  of  success,  he  never 
once  lost  the  confidence  of  his  country.  Early  aware 
of  the  importance  of  character,  to  those  who  wish  to 
be  useful,  he  omitted  no  honest  act,  thought  no  pains, 
no  sacrifice  of  ease  too  great,  to  procure  and  preserve 
it.  In  the  whole  of  that  stupidly-managed  war,  as 
also  another  subsequent  war,  which  was  not  much 
better  conducted,  he  always  took  care  to  keep  the 
public  well  informed  as  to  the  part  which  he  had 
acted,  or  wished  to  act,  in  the  affair.  Not  content,  to 
know  himself  that  he  had  acted  wisely  or  bravely,  he 
took  care  that  the  public  should  also  know  it;  in  order 
that  if  at  any  time  an  uproar  should  be  made,  the 
error  might  be  charged  to  the  real  offender.  If  the 
legislature,  or  governor  Dinwiddie,  or  general  Brad- 
dock,  or  any  other  superior,  with  whpm  he  had 

§* 


58  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

public  concern,  and  character  at  stake,  made  propo 
sitions  which  he  disliked,  he  would  modestly  poin 
out  their  errors,  predict  their  mischiefs,  and  thus 
wash  his  hands  of  all  blame : — which  documents, 
through  the  channel  of  numerous  letters  to  his  friends, 
were  always  laid  before  the  people.  Hence,  for  the 
ruinous  consequences  of  the  weakness  and  obstinacy 
of  Dinwiddie  and  Braddock,  not  a  breath  of  censure 
was  ever  blown  on  him.  On  the  contrary,  in  the 
public  mind,  he  always  rose  as  high,  or  higher,  than 
the  others  sunk.  It  was  universally  believed,  that 
had  he  governed,  in  place  of  Dinwiddie,  the  fatal 
Indian  war  would  not  have  lasted  a  campaign  ;  and 
that  on  the  hills  of  Monongahela,  had  Washington 
commanded  in  place  of  Braddock,  the  French  and 
Indians  would  have  been  handled  very  differently. 
Such  were  the  sentiments  with  which  the  public  were 
prepared  to  receive  him,  on  his  return  into  their 
welcoming  bosom.  Wherever  he  went,  homage 
always  waited  upon  him,  though  always  uncourted. 
The  grey-headed  rose  up  to  do  him  honour,  when  he 
came  into  their  company ;  and  the  young  men,  with 
sighs,  often  wished  for  a  fame  like  his.  Happy  was 
the  fairest  lady  of  the  land,  who,  at  the  crowded  ball, 
could  get  colonel  Washington  for  her  partner.  Anc 
even  at  the  house  where  prayer  is  wont  to  be  made, 
the  eyes  of  beauty  would  sometimes  wander  from 
the  cold  reading  preacher,  to  catch  a  livelier  devotion 
from  his  "mind-illumined  face," — a  face  at  once  so 
dignified  with  virtue,  and  so  sweetened  with  grace, 
that  none  could  look  on  it  without  emotions  very 
friendly  to  the  heart ;  and  sighs  of  sentiment,  too 
delicate  for  description,  were  often  seen  to  heave  the 
snowy  bosoms  of  the  noblest  dames. 

At  the  head  of  all  these  stood  the  accomplished 
Mrs.  Martha  Custis,  the  beautiful  and  wealthy 
widow  of  Mr.  John  Custis.  Her  wealth  was  equal 
at  least,  to  one  hundred  thousand  dollars!  But  hei 
beauty  was  a  sum  far  larger  still.  It  was  not  the 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  59 

ihallow  boast  of  a  fine  skin,  which  time  so  quickly 
tarnishes,  nor  of  those  short-lived  roses,  which  some- 
times wither  almost  as  soon  as  blown.  But  it  sprung 
from  the  heart — from  the  divine  and  benevolent 
affections,  which  spontaneously  gave  to  her  eyes,  her 
looks,  her  voice  and  her  manners,  such  angelic 
charms,  that  I  could  never  look  on  her,  without 
exclaiming  with  the  poet,  0! 

*'  She  was  nearest  heaven  of  all  on  earth  I  knew ; 
And  all  but  adoration  was  her  due." 

For  two  such  kindred  souls  to  love,  it  was  only 
necessary  that  they  should  meet.  Their  friendship 
commenced  with  the  first  hour  of  their  acquaintance, 
and  was  soon  matured  to  marriage,  which  took  place 
about  the  27th  year  of  Washington's  life.  His  lady 
was,  I  believe,  six  months  younger. 

But  that  it  is  contrary  to  the  rules  of  biography,  to 
begin  with  the  husband  and  end  with  the  wife,  I 
could  relate  of  that  most  excellent  lady  those  things 
which  the  public  would  greatly  delight  to  hear. 
However,  gratitude  to  that  bright  saint,  now  in 
heaven,  who  was  my  noblest  benefactress,  while  I 
preached  in  her  parish,  compels  me  to  say,  that  her 
virtues  and  charities  were  of  that  extensive  and 
sublime  sort,  as  fully  to  entitle  her  hie  jacel  to  the 
following  noble  epitaph,  a  little  altered,  from  one  of 
the  British  poets. 

Underneath  this  marble  hearse, 
Lies  the  subject  of  all  verse. 
Custis'  widow — great  George's  wife — 
Death !  ere  thou  robb'st  another  life, 
Virtuous,  fair,  and  good  as  she, 
Christ  shall  launch  a  dart  at  theo. 


«0  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Washington's  mother  has  a  very  curious  dream — it  points  to  greil 
coming  trouble — a  cloud  arising  in  England — the  causes  of  UM 
revolutionary  war. 

WHEN  a  man  begins  to  make  a  noise  in  the  world, 
Ins  relatives,  (the  Father,  sometimes,  but,  always 
that  tenderer  parent,  ili3  Mother)  are  sure  to  recollect 
certain  mighty  odd  dreams,  which  they  had  of  him 
when  he  was  a  child.  What  rare  dreams,  for  exam 
•ale,  had  the  mothers  of"  Macedonia's  madman,  and 
he  Swede,"  while  pregnant  with  those  butchers  ol 
ihe  human  race !  Mrs.  Washington  also  had  hei 
dream,  which  an  excellent  old  Lady  of  Fredericks- 
burg  assured  me  she  had  often  heard  her  relate  with 
great  satisfaction ;  and,  for  the  last  time,  but  a  few 
weeks  before  her  death. 

"I  dreamt,"  said  the  Mother  of  Washington, 
'*  that  I  was  sitting  in  the  piazza  of  a  large  new  house, 
into  which  we  had  but  lately  moved.  George,  at  that 
time  about  five  years  old,  was  in  the  garden  with  his 
corn-stalk  plough,  busily  running  little  furrows  in  the 
sand,  in  ircita.tion  of  Negro  Dick,  a  fine  black  boy, 
with  whose  ploughing  George  was  so  delighted  that 
it  was  sometimes  difficult  to  get  him  to  his  dinner. 
And  so  as  I  was  sitting  in  the  piazza  at  my  work,  I 
suddenly  heard  in  my  dream  a  kind  of  roaring  noise 
on  the  eastern  side  of  the  house.  On  running  out  to 
see  what  was  the  matter,  I  beheld  a  dreadful  sheet 
of  fire  bursting  from  the  roof.  The  sight  struck  me 
with  a  horror  which  took  away  my  strength,  and 
threw  me,  almost  senseless,  to  the  ground.  My 
husband  and  the  servants,  as  I  saw  in  my  dream, 
soon  came  up ;  but,  like  myself,  were  so  terrified  at 
the  sight,  that  they  could  make  no  attempt  to  extin- 
guish the  flames.  In  this  most  distressing  state,  the 
image  of  my  little  son  came,  I  thought,  to  my  mind 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  61 

more  dear  and  tender  than  ever: 'and  turning  tow- 
ards the  garden  where  he  was  engaged  with  his  little 
corn-stalk  plough,  I  screamed  out  twice  with  all  my 
might,  George !  George  ! — In  a  moment,  as  I  thought 
he  threw  down  his  mimic  plough,  and  ran  to  me 
saying,"  High  !  Ma  !  what  makes  you  call  so  angry, 
'an't  I  a  good  boy — don't  I  always  run  to  you  soon 
as  I  hear  you  call  ?"  I  could  make  no  reply,  but  just 
threw  up  my  arms  towards  the  flame.  He  looked 
up  and  saw  the  house  all  on  fire :  but  instead  of 
bursting  out  a  crying,  as  might  have  been  expected 
from  a  child,  he  instantly  brightened  up,  and  seemed 
ready  to  fly  to  extinguish  it.  But  first  looking  at  me 
with  great  tenderness,  he  said,  "  Oh,  Ma !  don't  be 
afraid  :  God  Almighty  will  help  us,  and  we  shall  soon 
put  it  out."  His  looks  and  words  revived  our  spirits 
in  so  wonderful  a  manner,  that  we  all  instantly  set 
about  to  assist  him.  A  ladder  was  presently  brought, 
on  which,  as  I  saw  in  my  dream,  he  ran  up  with  the 
nimbleness  of  a  squirrel ;  and  the  servants  supplied 
him  with  water,  which  he  threw  on  the  fire  from  an 
American  gourd.  But  that  growing  weaker,  the 
flame  appeared  to  gain  ground,  breaking  forth  and 
roaring  most  dreadfully,  which  so  frightened  the 
servants,  that  many  of  them,  like  persons  in  despair, 
began  to  leave  him.  But  he,  still  undaunted,  conti- 
nued to  ply  it  with  water,  animating  the  servants  at 
the  same  time,  both  by  his  word  and  actions.  For  a 
long  time  the  contest  appeared  very  doubtful :  but  at 
length  a  venerable  old  man,  with  a  tall  cap  and  an 
iron  rod  in  his  hand,  like  a  lightning  rod,  reached 
out  to  him  a  curious  little  trough,  like  a  wooden  shoe ! 
On  receiving  this,  he  redoubled  his  exertions,  and 
soon  extinguished  the  fire.  Our  joy  on  the  occasion 
was  unbounded.  But  he,  on  the  contrary,  showing 
no  more  of  transport  now  than  of  terror  before,  looked 
rather  sad  at  sight  of  the  great  harm  that  had  been 
done.  Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  after  some 
.ime  spent  as  in  deep  thought,  he  called  out  with 
6 


08  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

much  joy,  "  Well,  Ma  !  now  if  yon  and  the  family 
will  but  consent,  we  can  make  a  far  better  roof  than 
this  ever  was;  a  roof  of  such  a  quality,  that  if  well 
kept  together,  it  will  last  for  ever;  but  if  you  take  it 
apart,  you  will  make  the  house  ten  thousand  times 
worse  than  it  was  before." 

This,  though  certainly  a  very  curious  dream,  needs 
no  Daniel  to  interpret  it;  especially  if  we  take  Mrs. 
Washington's  new  house,  for  trie  young  Colony 
Government. — the  fire  on  its  east  side,  for  North's  civil 
war — the  gourd  which  Washington  first  employed, 
for  the  American  three  and  six  months  enlistments 
— the  old  man  with  his  cap  and  iron  rod,  for  Doctor 
Franklin — the  shoe-like  vessel  which  he  reached  to 
Washington,  for  the  Sabot  or  wooden-shoed  nation, 
the  French,  whom  Franklin  courted  a  long  time  for 
America — and  the  new  roof  proposed  by  Washington, 
for  a  staunch  honest  Republic — that  "  equal  govern- 
ment," which,  by  guarding  alike  the  welfare  of  all, 
ought  by  all  to  be  so  heartily  beloved  as  to  endure 
for  ever. 

Had  it  been  appointed  unto  any  man  to  quaff  un- 
mingled  happiness  in  this  life,  George  Washington 
had  been  that  man.  For  where  is  that  pleasurable 
ingredient  with  which  his  cup  was  not  full  and  over- 
flowing? 

Crowned  with  honours — laden  with  riches — blest 
with  health — and  in  the  joyous  prime  of  27,  sharing 
each  rural  sweet  in  the  society  of  a  charming  woman 
who  doated  on  him,  he  surely  bid  fair  to  spend  his 
days  and  nights  of  life  in  ceaseless  pleasure. — But 
ah ! — as  sings  the  sweet  bard  of  Zion, 

Our  days,  alas !  our  mortal  days, 

Are  short  and  wretched  too ! 
"  Evil  and  few  !"  the  Patriarch  says, 

\nd  well  the  Patriarch  knew ! 
Tis  out  at  best,  a  narrow  bound, 

That  Heaven  allots  to  men  ; 
And  pains  and  sins  run  through  the  round 

Of  three-score  years  and  tea ! 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  8S 

From  this,  the  universal  lot,  not  Washington  him- 
self could  obtain  exemption.  For  in  the  midst  of  his 
favourite  labours,  of  the  plough  and  pruning-hook, 
covering  his  extensive  farms  with  all  the  varied  de- 
lights of  delicious  fruits  and  golden  grain,  of  lowing 
herds  and  snowy  flocks,  he  was  suddenly  called  on 
by  his  country,  to  turn  his  plough-share  into  a  sword, 
and  go  forth  to  meet  a  torrent  of  evils  which  threat- 
ened her.  The  fountain  of  those  evils,  whence  at 
length  flowed  the  great  civil  war,  which  for  ever 
separated  Britain  and  her  children,  I  proceed  now 
briefly  to  state. 

After  the  reduction  of  Canada,  the  British  officers 
who  commanded  on  that  expedition,  came  to  Boston 
and  New  York,  on  a  visit  to  their  American  brethren 
n  arms,  who  had  served  with  them  in  that  war. 
Soon  as  their  arrival  was  announced,  the  Americans 
flew  to  meet  and  welcome  them.  They  were  paraded 
through  the  streets  as  the  saviours  of  the  land — the 
doors  of  all  were  thrown  open  to  receive  them — and 
every  day,  during  their  -stay,  was  spent  in  feasting 
and  public  dinners,  which,  for  the  sake  of  their  be- 
loved guests,  were  made  as  splendid  as  possible, 
though  always  through  the  aid  of  obliging  neighbours. 
The  rooms  glittered  with  borrowed  plate — wines  of 
every  vintage  sparkled  on  the  crowded  side-boards 
— while  the  long  extended  tables  were  covered  with 
the  finest  fish  and  flesh,  succeeded  by  the  richest  des- 
serts. The  British  officers  were  equally  charmed 
and  astonished  at  such  elegant  hospitality,  and,  on 
their  return  to  England,  gave  full  scope  to  their 
feelings.  They  painted  the  colonial  wealth  in  the 
colourings  of  romance  ;  and  spoke  of  the  Americans 
as  a  people,  who,  in  comparison  of  the  British,  lived 
'ike  kings. 

Thus,  American  hospitality,  by  a  strange  perver- 
sion, had  nearly  destroyed  American  Liberty  !  For, 
from  that  time,  the  British  ministry  began  to  look 
jpo.r  the  American  with  an  evil  eye,  and  to  devise 


6*  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

ways  and  means  to  make  us  "  bear  a  part  of  theii 
burdens !"  But  what  did  they  mean  by  this  ?  Did 
they  mean  to  acknowledge  us  as  sons  of  Britons ; 
equally  free  and  independent  with  our  brethren  in 
England  ?  and,  like  them,  allowed  a  representation 
in  Parliament,  who  should  freely  vote  our  money  for 
the  common  cause  ? 

Oh  no  !  an  idea  so  truly  British  and  honourable, 
was  not  at  all  in  their  thoughts.  We  were  not  to  be 
treated  as  brothers,  but  as  slaves!  over  whom  an 
unconditional  right  was  claimed,  to  tax  and  take  our 
property  at  pleasure  !  !  ! 

Reader,  if  you  be  a  Briton,  be  a  Briton  still — pre- 
serve the  characteristic  calm  and  candour  of  a  Briton. 
I  am  not  about  to  say  one  word  against  your  nation. 
No  !  I  know  them  too  well :  and  thank  God,  I  can 
say,  after  several  years  residence  among  them,  I  be- 
lieve them  to  be  as  honest,  charitable,  and  magnani- 
mous a  people  as  any  under  the  canopy  of  Heaven. 
I  am  about  to  speak  of  the  Ministry  only,  who  cer- 
tainly, at  that  time,  were  a  most  ambitious  and  in- 
triguing junto,  who  by  bad  means  had  attained  power, 
and  by  worse  were  endeavouring  to  extend  it,  even 
to  the  destruction  of  both  American  and  British 
Liberty,  as  the  excellent  Mr.  Pitt  charged  them. — No 
Englishman  can  desire  fuller  evidence  than  this  one 
tyrannical  claim  made  against  us  by  Lord  North — 
"  taxation  without  representation  ! !"  As  a  plea  for 
such  despotic  doing,  North  and  his  creatures  began 
with  boldly  trumpeting  the  wonderful  kindness  they 
had  conferred  on  America.  "  They,  it  seems,  "  first 
discovered  the  country ! — they  settled  it — they  always 
had  defended  it.  It  was  their  blood — their  treasure 
— their  ships  and  sailors,  and  soldiers,  that  created 
tfie  British  colonies  ! ! 

0  dear  ! — and  what  then  ! — why,  to  be  sure,  aftei 
having  done  such  mighty  things  for  the  Americans, 
they  had  as  clear  a  right  to  their  gold  and  silver,  as 
»  Dutch°,r  has  to  the  hair  and  hides  of  his  cattle  1 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  65 

This  language  was  actually  carried  into  Parliament! 
where  a  Mr.  Charles  Townsend,  to  enforce  the  stamp 
act,cried  out,  "  Who  are  these  Americans?  Are  they 
not  our  children,  planted  by  our  care,  nourished  by 
our  indulgence,  and  protected  by  our  arms  ? 

At  this  the  brave  Colonel  Barre,  with  cheeks  in- 
flamed with  virtuous  indignation,  thus  thundered 
forth  against  the  insolent  speechifier.  "  They  plant- 
ed by  your  care  !  No,  sir  :  your  oppressions  planted 
them  in  America.  They  fled  from  your  tyranny  to 
a  then  uncultivated  and  inhospitable  country,  where 
they  exposed  themselves  to  all  the  evils  which  a 
wilderness,  filled  with  blood-thirsty  savages,  could 
threaten.  And  yet,  actuated  by  true  English  love  of 
liberty,  they  thought  all  these  evils  light  in  comparison 
with  what  they  had  suffered  in  their  own  country, 
and  from  you,  who  ought  to  have  been  their  friends. 

"  They  nourished  by  your  indulgence  !  No,  sir  ! 
they  grew  by  your  neglect.  As  soon  as  you  began 
to  indulge  them,  that  boasted  indulgence  was  to  send 
them  hungry  packs  of  your  own  creatures,  to  spy  out 
their  liberties  ! — to  misrepresent  their  actions — and 
to  prey  upon  their  substance  ! — Yes,  sir,  you  sent 
them  men,  whose  behaviour  has  often  caused  the 
blood  of  those  sons  of  Liberty  to  recoil  within  them — 
men  promoted  by  you  to  the  highest  seats  of  justice, 
in  that  country,  who,  to  my  knowledge,  had  good 
cause  to  dread  a  court  of  justice  in  their  own  ! — They 
protected  by  your  arms  ! — No,  sir  !  They  have  nobly 
taken  up  arms  in  your  defence  ;  have  exerted  a  most 
heroic  valour,  amidst  their  daily  labours,  for  the  de- 
fence of  a  country  whose  frontier  was  drenched  in 
blood,  while  its  interior  parts  gave  up  all  their  savings 
for  our  emolument !" 

All  this  was  very  true.  For  the  Americans  had 
not  only  planted,  but  in  a  great  measure  protected 
themselves.  In  the  French  and  Indian  war,  from  '55 
to  '63,  they  lost  nearly  30,000  of  their  stoutest  young 
men  And  by  regular  returns  it  appears  that  Mas 
6*  6 


66  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

sachusetts  alone  expended  about  50,0007.  sterling 
Ji  that  time  !  !  !  And  moreover,  they  had  never  hesi- 
sited  for  a  moment  to  furnish  to  the  last  man  and 
he  last  shilling  whatever  Britain  had  required. 

But,  alas !  what  signifies  right  against  might ! 
When  a  king  wants  money  for  his  own  pride,  or  for 
nis  hungry  relations,  and  when  his  ministers  want 
stakes  for  their  gaming  tables,  or  diamond  necklaces 
for  their  mistresses,  they  will  have  it,  though  plun- 
dered colonies  should  lack  bread  and  spelling  books 
for  their  children.  For  in  the  year  '63,  when  the 
lamp  of  God  was  burning  with  peculiar  brightness  in 
our  land,  and  both  Britain  and  her  colonies  enjoyed 
a  measure  of  blessings  seldom  indulged  to  the  most 
favoured  nations — wlien,  at  the  very  mention  of  Old 
England,  our  hearts  leaped  for  joy,  as  at  the  name 
of  a  great  and  venerable  mother,  and  that  mother 
felt  equal  transport  at  thoughts  of  us,  her  flourish 
ing  colonies — when  all  the  p»|duce  of  these  vast  and 
fertile  regions  was  poured  into  her  beloved  lap,  and 
she  in  return,  not  allowing  us  the  trouble  to  make 
even  a  hob-nail,  heaped  our  families  with  all  the 
necessaries  and  elegancies  of  her  ingenious  artists — 
when,  though  far  separated  by  an  ocean's  roar,  we 
were  yet  so  united  by  love  and  mutual  helpfulness, 
that  the  souls  of  Columbus,  Raleigh,  and  Smith, 
looking  down  from  Heaven,  with  joy  beheld  the  con- 
summation of  all  their  labours  and  wishes  !  At  that 
happy  period,  lord  North  brought  in  a  bill  to  tax  the 
colonies,  without  allowing  us  a  voice  in  their  coun- 
cils ! !  The  colonies  were  thunderstruck :  and  Britain 
herself  groaning  through  all  her  islands,  "  gave  signs 
of  woe,  that  all  was  lost !" 

Doctor  Franklin,  who  was  then  in  England  as  a 
colony  agent,  on  hearing  that  this  most  iniquitous 
bill  had  actually  passed  both  houses,  and  was  ratified 
by  the  king,  wrote  to  a  friend  in  America  in  these 
words — "  The  sun  of  our  liberty  is  set.  Yo a  must 
all  now  light  up  the  double  candles  of  Industry  ami 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  67 

Economy.  But,  above  all  things,  encourage  the 
young  people  to  marry  and  raise  up  children  as  fast 
as  they  can." 

Meaning,  that  America,  yet  too  weak  to  resist  the 
chains  which  a  wicked  ministry  were  forging  for  her. 
should  instantly  fly  to  heaven-ordered  marriage,  foi 
her  heroic  youth,  to  rend  the  ignominious  bonds  from 
their  own  and  their  father's  arms. 

But  the  sons  of  Columbia,  though  few  in  number, 
nad  too  long  enjoyed  the  sweets  of  Liberty  and  pro- 
perty to  part  with  them  so  tamely,  because  a  king 
and  his  minions  had  ordered  it.  No !  blessed  be  God", 
their  conduct  was  such  as  to  strike  the  world  with 
this  glorious  truth,  that  a  brave  people,  who  know 
their  rights,  are  not  to  be  enslaved. 

For,  soon  as  it  was  told  in  America,  that  the  stamp- 
act  had  passed,  the  people  rose  up  against  it  as  one 
man — the  old  grudges  between  churchmen  and  dis- 
senters were  instantly  forgotten — every  man  looked 
to  his  fellow  as  to  a  brother  for  aid  against  the 
coming  slavery — their  looks  on  each  other  were  as 
lightnings  in  a  parched  forest — the  sacred  fire  kindled, 
and  ran  from  end  to  end  of  the  continent.  In  every 
colony  the  people  rushed  into  patriotic  societies .... 
reminded  each  other  of  their  rights  ....  denounced 
the  stamp-act  as  a  most  audacious  infringement — 
burnt  in  effigy  the  promoters  of  it — destroyed  the 
houses  of  those  degenerated  Americans  who  had 
received  the  stamps  to  sell — and  menaced  loudly  a 
non-intercourse  with  Britian,  if  the  act  was  not  im- 
mediately repealed ! 

This  spirited  behaviour  filled  all  England  with 
amazement.  Every  man  there,  no'  matter  what  his 
principles  or  politics,  felt  it  to  the  very  quick.  The 
manufacturers  and  merchants  trembled ;  the  tories 
raved ;  the  whigs  rejoiced,  and,  with  the  great  Pitt 
and  Burke  at  their  head,  publicly  applauded  the 
Americans,  and  denounced  the  stamp-act  as  entirely 
contrary  tc  the  spirit  of  British  freedom.  In  short, 


65  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

the  cry  against  it  was  so  loud,  both  in  England  and 
America,  that  the  ministry,  covered  with  shame, 
were  obliged  to  give  way,  and  abandon  the  project. 

The  cloud,  wnich  had  hung  so  dark  over  the  two 
countries,  being  thus  happily  scattered,  many  began 
to  cherish  the  hope,  that  we  should  have  a  clear  sky 
again,  and  that  the  former  golden  days  would  soon 
return.  But  alas  !  those  golden  days  were  gone,  to 
return  no  more  !  Government  had  shown  the 
cloven  foot — and  America  had  taken  a  fright  which 
nothing  but  whole  years  of  kindliest  treatment  could 
ever  sooth.  But,  unfortunately,  the  ministry  were 
in  no  humour  to  show  that  kindness.  Long  accus- 
tomed to  speak  of  the  Americans  as  a  pack  of 
•«convicts,  whom  by  transportation,  they  had  kindly 
saved  from  the  gallows,"  instead  of  giving  them 
credit  fpr  their  late  spirited  behaviour,  they  consider- 
ed it  as  the  height  of  audacity:  and  though  from 
necessity  they  had  yielded  to  their  demands,  they 
were  determined  to  have  revenge  on  the  first 
opportunity.  That  opportunity  was  too  soon  af- 
forded. 

It  should  have  been  stated,  that  with  the  duty  on 
stamp  paper,  similar  duties  had  been  laid  on  glass, 
tea,  &c.  &c.,  all  of  which  had  been  repealed  with  the 
stamp  act,  except  that  on  tea.  This  the  ministry 
had  artfully  retained  :  partly  to  cover  the  shame  of 
their  defeat,  but  chiefly  in  hopes  of  familiarizing  the 
Americans  with  taxation.  For  though  Lord  North 
was  never,  that  I  know  of,  charged  with  being  a 
wizard,  yet  did  he  not  lack  sense  to  know  that  if  he 
could  but  prevail  on  the  young  Mammoth  to  submit 
to  a  tax,  though  as  small  as  a  Gnat,  he  soon  should 
bring  him  to  swallow  a  Camel !  But  glory  to  God! 
the  Americans  had  too  much  of  British  blood,  to 
allow  an  unconstitutional  tax  in  any  shape  or  size. 
Independent  and  coy  as  the  birds  of  their  forests, 
they  would  not  suffer  a  stranger's  hand  even  to 
touch  the  sacred  nest  of  their  rights.  As  soon  there 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  69 

fore,  as  the  ministry  began,  in  1773,  to  order  •'<  the 
collection  of  taxes  on  tea,"  the  colonies  took  fire 
again :  and  the  old  flame  of  '53  was  completely  re- 
kindled throughout  the  continent.  But  still  in  the 
very  storm  and  tempest  of  their  rage,  they  never  lost 
sight  of  the  respect  due  their  mother  country.  Their 
numerous  letters  and  petitions  to  the  King,  to  the 
Parliament,  and  to  the  people  of  Britain,  all,  all. 
breathe  the  full  spirit  of  dutiful  children,  and  of 
loving  brothers.  In  terms  the  most  modest  and 
pathetic,  they  state  the  extreme  injustice  and  barbar- 
ity of  such  measures — their  total  inconsistency  with 
the  spirit  of  the  British  Constitution — their  positive 
inadmissibility  into  America — or,  in  that  event,  the 
certainty  of  a  civil  war,  with  all  its  fatal  effects  on 
the  two  countries. 

Tempered  with  meekness,  and  pointed  wkh  truth, 
their  arguments  reach  the  hearts  of  the  British 
patriots,  who  all  fly  in  eager  myriads  to  extinguish 
the  kindling  flames  of  civil  war.  Foremost  of  this 
noble  band  is  seen  the  venerable  form  of  Chatham. 
Though  worn  with  years  and  infirmities,  he  quits 
his  bed  ;  arid,  muffled  up  in  flannels  and  furs,  crawls 
to  the  house  of  lords,  to  give  his  last  advice,  and  yet 
avert,  if  possible,  the  impending  ruin.  He  rises  to 
speak.  A  solemn  silence  prevails,  while  the  looks 
of  the  crowded  audience  are'Sending  forward  upon 
him,  to  catch  the  accents  of  his  magic  tongue.  His 
eyes  are  upon  the  ground :  but  his  thoughts  are  not 
there :  they  are  travelling  like  sun-beams  over  all 
the  earth.  Britain  and  America,  with  all  their 
population  and  interests,  lie  open  before  his  vast 
mind,  with  the  varied  evils  of  the  threatened  war 
In  Britain  he  beholds  a  fearful  pause  in  the  pulse  of 
industry  and  joy — the  loom  is  still — the  anvil  re 
sounds  no  more — while  the  harbours,  late  alive  with 
bustling  business  and  cheerful  songs,  now  crowded 
with  silent  dismantled  ships,  present  a  scene  ol 
national  mourning.  In  the  colonies  ne  sees  the 


70  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

plains,  lately  crowned  with  joyful  harvests,  now 
covered  with  armed  bands  of  Britons  and  Americana 
rushing  to  murderous  battle — while  in  Europe,  the 
proud  Spaniard,  the  sarcastic  Gaul,  and  broad  grin- 
ning Hollander,  with  shrugs  and  sneers  enjoy  the 
coming  fray,  as  a  welcome  prelude  to  the  downfall 
of  their  hated  rival.  He  next  paints  the  Americans 
as  native  sons  of  Britain — and,  at  once,  enthusiastic 
lovers  of  liberty  and  of  their  mother  country — ready, 
as  her  children,  to  give  her  every  thing ;  but,  as  her 
slaves,  nothing.  Though  harshly  treated,  they  still 
love  her,  and  wish  for  nothing  so  much  as  a  hearty 
reconciliation,  and  a  glad  return  of  all  the  former 
friendships  and  blessings.  At  thought  of  this  most 
desirable  of  all  events,  the  parent  soul  of  the  great 
orator  is  stirred  within  him,  his  angel  frame  trembles 
with  strong  feeling,  which  heaves  his  labouring 
bosom,  and  swells  his  changeful  face.  At  length  his 
powerful  words  break  forth. 

"  For  God's  sake  then,  my  lords,  let  the  way  be 
instantly  opened  for  reconciliation.  I  say  instantly; 
or  it  will  be  too  late  for  ever.  The  Americans  tell 
you — and  remember,  it  is  the  language  of  the  whole 
continent — they  tell  you,  they  will  never  submit  to 
be  taxed  without  their  own  consent.  They  insist 
on  a  repeal  of  your  laws.  They  do  not  ask  it  as  a 
favour.  They  claim  it  as  a  right.  They  demand  it. 
— And  I  tell  you  the  acts  must  be  repealed.  They 
will  be  repealed.  You  cannot  enforce  them.  But 
bare  repeal  will  not  satisfy  this  enlightened  and 
spirited  people.  What!  satisfy  them  by  repealing  a 
bit  of  paper — by  repealing  a  piece  of  parchment ! 
N. !  you  must  declare  you  have  no  right  to  tax  them 
Then  they  may  trust  you — then  they  will  come  into 
you.  There  are,  my  lords,  three  millions  of  whigs 
in  America.  Three  millions  of  whigs,  with  arms  in 
their  hands,  are  a  formidable  body  !  There  are,  1 
trust,  double  that  number  of  whigs  in  England. 
And  I  hope  the  whigs  in  both  countries  will  join  and 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  71 

make  a  common  cause.  They  are  united  by  the 
strongest  ties  of  sentiment  and  interest ;  and  will 
therefore,  I  hope,  fly  to  support  their  brethren.  In 
this  most  alarming  and  distracted  state  of  onr  affairs, 
though  borne  down  by  a  cruel  disease,  1  have  crawl- 
ed to  this  house,  my  lords,  to  give  you  my  best 
advice,  which  is,  to  beseech  his  majesty  that  orders 
may  instantly  be  dispatched  to  General  Gage  to 
remove  the  troops  from  Boston.  Their  presence  is  a 
source  of  perpetual  irritation  and  suspicion  to  those 
people.  How  can  they  trust  you,  with  the  bayonet 
at  their  breasts  ?  They  have  all  the  reason  in  the 
world  to  believe  that  you  mean  their  death  or  slavery. 
Let  us  then  set  to  this  business  in  earnest.  There  is 
no  time  to  be  lost.  Every  moment  is  big  with  dan- 
ger. Nay,  while  I  am  now  speaking,  the  decisive 
blow  may  be  struck,  and  millions  involved  in  the 
dreadful  consequences  !  The  very  first  drop  of 
blood  that  is  drawn,  will  make  a  wound  perhaps 
never  to  be  healed — a  wound  of  such  rancorous 
malignity,  as  will,  in  all  probability,  mortify  the 
whole  body,  and  hasten,  both  on  England  and 
America,  that  dissolution  to  which  all  nations  are 
destined." 

Here  was  a  speech,  sufficient,  one  would  have 
thought,  to  stop  the  career  of  the  maddest  politicians. 
— But  neither  this,  nor  the  advice  of  lord  Camden 
nor  the  numerous  and  pathetic  addresses  from  Lon- 
don, Liverpool,  and  Jamaica,  could  produce  the  least 
change  in  the  views  of  the  ministry.  "  Let  the 
Americans,"  said  lord  Gower  with  a  sneer,  "  sit 
talking  about  their  natural  rights!  their  divine  rights! 
and  such  stuff!  we  will  send  them  over  a  few  regi- 
ments of  grenadiers  to  help  their  consultations  !" 
Thus  high-toned  was  the  language  of  ministry,  and 
thus  stoutly  bent  on  the  submission  of  the  Ameri- 
cans. Indeed,  in  some  instances,  they  would  not 
honour  them  so  far  as  to  give  their  "  humble  peti- 
tions" a  reading ;  but  consigned  them  to  what  the 


72  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

whig  opposition  pleasantly  called,  "  the  committee  of 
oblivion/'' 

The  tea-tax  was,  of  course,  at  any  rate  to  be  col 
lected.  But  as  there  could  be  no  tax  without  tea,  nor 
tea  unless  it  was  sent,  several  ships  of  that  obnoxious 
weed  were  purposely  dispatched  for  America.  Lord 
Fairfax  happened  to  be  at  Mount  Vernon  when 
Washington  received  advice  from  a  friend  in  London 
that  the  tea-ships  were  about  to  sail.  ..."  Well,  my 
lord,"  said  he,  "  and  so  the  ships,  with  the  gun-pow- 
der tea,  are,  it  seems,  on  their  way  to  America  !" 

"Well,  but  colonel,  why  do  you  call  it  gunpowdei 
tea." 

"  Why,  I  am  afraid,  my  lord,"  replied  Washing- 
ton, "  it  will  prove  inflammable,  and  produce  an 
explosion  that  will  shake  both  countries." 

The  event,  corresponded  with  Washington's  pre- 
diction. Looked  on  as  sent  to  insult  and  enslave 
them,  the  ships  were  every  where  received  with  the 
heartiest  curses  of  the  people,  who  quickly  boarded 
them — in  some  places  furiously  emptying  their  fra- 
grant cargoes  into  the  flashing  deep  ; — in  others, 
sternly  ordering  the  captains  to  depart,  under  the  pen- 
alty of  being  instantly  tucked  up  to  the  yard  arms. 

On  the  arrival  of  this  news  in  England,  the  counte- 
nance of  the  minister  was  dark  with  fury ;  and  he 
proceeded,  without  delay,  to  mix  up  for  the  colonies 
a  cup  of  fiery  indignation,  of  which  Boston,  it  seems, 
was  to  have  the  largest  dose.  As  that  most  unduti- 
ful  child  had  always  led  off  the  dance  in  outrage  and 
rebellion  against  the  parent  state,  it  was  determined 
that  she  should  pay  the  piper  for  old  and  new. . .  that 
her  purse  should  answer  for  all  the  tea  that  had  been 
destroyed  .  .  .  that  her  luxuriant  trade,  which  had 
made  her  so  wanton,  should  be  taken  from  her — and, 
that,  in  spite  of  her  high  looks  and  proud  stomach, 
she  should  sit  on  the  stool  of  repentance,  until  his 
gracious  majesty,  George  III.  should  be  pleased  to 
pronounce  her  pardon  !  ' 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  73 

On  tbe  receipt  of  this  intelligence  at  Boston,  the 
passions  of  the  people  flew  up,  five  hundred  degrees 
above  blood-heat !  throughout  the  continent  the  fever 
raged  with  equal  fury.  The  colonies  all  extolled 
Boston  for  the  firmness  with  which  she  had  asserted 
her  chartered  rights  ....  Liberal  contributions  were 
made  for  her  relief:  and  this  ministerial  attack  on  her 
liberties,  was  considered  as  an  attack  on  the  liberties 
of  the  whole,  which  were  now  thought  to  be  in  such 
danger,  as  loudly  to  call  for  a  general  congress  from 
all  the  colonies,  to  deliberate  on  their  common  in- 
terest. This  most  unkingly  body  commenced  its 
session  in  Philadelphia,  September  5th,  1774.  They 
began  with  publishing  a  bill  of  rights,  wherein  they 
repeated  "  their  loyalty  and  love  to  the  mother  coun- 
try, together  with  an  earnest  wish  for  constitutional 
dependence  on  her.  But,  at  the  same  time,  they 
begged  leave  to  assure  her,  that  though  she,  in  her 
excessive  fondness,  might  suffer  herself  to  be  bound 
and  insulted  by  North  and  Bute,  and  other  Philistine 
lords,  yet  they,  for  their  parts,  were  resolved,  like 
true  sons  of  British  Sampsons,  to  rise  and  fight  to 
the  last  locks  of  their  heads.  They  asserted,  and 
begged  leave  to  do  it  pretty  roundly  too,  as  it  was 
now  high  time  to  speak  plain,  that  by  the  immutable 
laws  of  nature  —  by  the  principles  of  the  British 
constitution  —  and  by  their  several  charters,  they 
had  a  right  to  liberty,  the  liberty  of  British  subjects 
— that  their  ever  honored  fathers,  at  the  time  of  their 
emigration  to  this  country,  were  entitled  to  all  the 
rights  of  freemen — and  since,  by  such  emigration 
they  had  neither  forfeited  nor  surrendered  these 
rights — that  they  their  children,  were  determined,  at 
the  risk  of  every  thing  short  of  their  eternal  salvation, 
to  defend  and  to  transmit  them  entire  to  their  inno- 
cent and  beloved  offspring." 

Millions  of  choice  spirits  in  England,  Scotland, 
and  Ireland,  cried  out  "  that's  well  said  !  and  may 
God's  arms  strike  with  our  American  brethren!*' 
7 


74  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Tins  was  coming  to  the  point,  and  produced  the 
effect  that  might  have  been  expected.  For,  instantly 
all  exportation  of  arms  and  ammunition  to  America 
was  prohibited — large  reinforcements  were  sent  to 
the  king's  troops  at  Boston — and  every  step  was 
taken  to  compel  the  colonies  to  submission.  This 
filled  up  the  measure  of  American  hatred  to  the 
ministry,  and  called  forth  the  most  vigorous  prepara 
tions  for  war.  Every  ounce  of  gunpowder  was  hus- 
banded like  so  much  gold-dust.  Powder-mills  and 
musket-manufactories  were  erected  in  most  of  the 
colonies ;  while  others,  not  liking  this  slow  way  of 
doing  things,  laid  violent  hands  at  once  upon  all  the 
king's  arms  and  ammunition  that  could  be  found. 

The  tremendous  cloud  of  civil  war  was  now 
ready  to  burst:  and  April  the  19th,  1775,  was  the 
fatal  day  marked  out  by  mysterious  heaven,  for 
tearing  away  the  stout  infant  colonies  from  the  long- 
loved  paps  of  the  old  mother  country.  Early  that 
morning,  general  Gage,  whose  force  in  Boston  was 
augmented  to  10,000  men,  sent  a  detachment  of  1000 
to  destroy  some  military  stores  which  the  Americans 
had  collected  in  the  town  of  Concord,  near  Lexing- 
ton. On  coming  to  the  place,  they  found  the  town 
militia  assembled  on  the  green  near  the  road.  "Throw 
down  your  arms,  and  disperse,  you  rebels,"  was  the- 
ory of  Pitcairn  the  British  officer ;  which  was  imme- 
diately followed  by  a  general  discharge  of  the  soldiers; 
whereby  eight  of  the  Americans  were  killed,  and 
several  wounded.  The  provincials  retired.  But 
finding  that  the  British  still  continued  their  fire,  they 
returned  it  with  good  interest ;  and  soon  strewed  the 
green  with  the  dead  and  wounded.  Such  fierce  dis- 
charges of  musketry  produced  the  effect  that  might 
have  been  expected  in  a  land  of  freemen,  who  saw 
their  gallant  brothers  suddenly  engaged  in  the  strife 
of  death.  Never  before  had  the  bosoms  of  the  swains 
experienced  such  a  tumult  of  heroic  passions.  Then 
hrowing  aside  the  implements  of  husbandry,  and 


BATTLE    OF     LEXINGTON. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  77 

leaimg  their  teams  in  the  half-finished  furrows,  they 
flew  to  their  houses ;  snatched  up  their  arms ;  and 
bursting  from  their  wild  shrieking  wives  and  children, 
hasted  to  the  glorious  field,  where  LIBERTY,  heaven 
born  goddess,  was  to  be  bought  for  blood.  Pouring 
in  now  from  every  quarter,  were  seen  crowds  of 
sturdy  peasants,  with  flushed  cheeks  and  flaming 
eyes,  eager  for  battle !  Even  age  itself  forgot  its 
wonted  infirmities:  and  hands,  long  palsied  with 
years,  threw  aside  the  cushioned  crutch,  and  grasped 
the  deadly  firelock.  Fast  as  they  came  up,  their 
ready  muskets  began  to  pour  the  long  red  streams 
of  fiery  vengeance.  The  enemy  fell  back,  apalled  ! 
The  shouting  farmers,  swift  closing  on  their  rear, 
followed  their  steps  with  death,  while  the  British,  as 
fast  as  they  could  load,  wheeling  on  their  pursuers, 
returned  the  deadly  platoons.  Like  some  tremendous 
whirlwind,  whose  roaring  sweep  all  at  once  darkens 
the  day,  riding  the  air  in  tempests  ;  so  sudden  and 
terrible,  amidst  clouds  of  dust,  and  smoke,  and  flame, 
the  flight  of  Britain's  warriors  thundered  along  the 
road.  But  their  flight  was  not  in  safety.  Every 
step  of  their  retreat  was  stained  with  the  trickling 
crimson.  Every  hedge  or  fence  by  which  they  pas- 
sed, took  large  toll  of  hostile  carcasses.  They  would, 
in  all  probability,  have  been  cut  off  to  a  man,  had 
not  general  Gage,  luckily  recollected,  that,  born  of 
Britons,  these  Yankees  might  possess  some  of  the 
family  valour ;  and  therefore  sent  1000  men  to  sup- 
port the  detachment.  This  reinforcement  met  the 
poor  fellows,  faint  with  fear  and  fatigue,  and  brought 
them  safely  off  to  Boston. 

In  this  their  first  field,  the  American  farmers 
gleaned  of  the  British  about,  sixty-three,  in  slain,  and 
two  hundred  and  eighty  wounded  and  prisoners. 
The  fire  of  civil  discord  now  broke  out  a  roaring 
flame  :  and,  with  equal  ardour,  both  parties  hastened 
to  clap  on  the  "  kettle  of  war." 

National  prejudices  ought  to  be  scouted  from  the 
7* 


7»  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

face  of  the  earth.  Colonel  Grant  actually  said  ii> 
parliament,  that  "  with  five  regiments  he  could  march 
through  all  America  ! ! !"  Oh  !  had  that  profound 
philosopher  but  beheld  the  scrub  race  above,  he 
might  have  learned  two  things — first,  that  he  was 
never  born  to  be  a  prophet.  And  secondly,  that  as  it 
is  not  to  this  or  that  country  exclusively,  that  we  are 
to  look  for  brave  men,  but  in  every  country  where 
the  people  are  accustomed  to  breathe  the  proud  air 
of  liberty,  and  to  rejoice  in  the  sweet  fruits  of  their 
labours  as  all  their  own. 

Soon  as  the  battle  of  Lexington  was  told  to  the 
astonished  ministry  in  England,  a  grand  caucus  of 
lords  was  held,  to  consider  the  best  ways  and  means 
to  bring  the  rebels  to  their  senses.  "  One  spoke  after 
this  manner,  and  another  after  that.  Presently  up 
rose  lord  George  Germaine,  and"  with  all  Moloch  in 
his  looks,  hurled  the  curses  of  Amalek  against  the 
Americans.  "  Vengeance  !  gentlemen  !"  he  cried, 
"  vengeance  !  your  insulted  island — your  wounded 
honour — your  murdered  countrymen — all  cry  havoc ' 
and  bid  slip  the  dogs  of  war.  Gods  !  can  we  sit  de- 
bating here,  when  rank  rebellion  lords  it  over  our 
colonies,  and  the  tongues  of  rebel  curs  are  red  in  the 
blood  of  our  bravest  soldiers  slain.  No !  let  our 
swift -avenging  armies  fly  across  the  ocean,  and  light- 
ing like  a  tornado  on  the  rebel  continent,  from  end 
to  end,  with  fire  and  sword  sweep  both  town  and 
country  before  them." 

Here  the  celebrated  Mr.  Wilkes,  in  the  spirit  of  a 
true  Briton,  roared  out :  "  Aye,  that's  right !  that's 
right !  lord  George  !  that's  exactly  according  to  our 

old  English  proverb the  greater  the  coward,  the 

crueller  the  devil !" 

"  Coward  !  Sir  !"  replied  lord  George,  black  with 
rage.  "  Coward  !  what  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir  ?" 

"I  mean,  sir,"  returned  Mr.  Wilkes,  "that  the 
hero  who  could  not  stand  fire  on  the  plains  of  Minden, 
does  well  to  advise  fire  and  sword  in  the  woods  of 
America  '* 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  79 

Upon  this,  the  unlovely  names  of  liar  and  scoun- 
dre.  were  exchanged  with  a  freedom  which  showed 
that  in  the  quarrel  with  America  the  passions  of  the 
two  parties  knew  no  bounds.  Happily  for  America, 
this  spirit  of  Mr.  Wilkes  was  not  peculiar  to  him- 
self. Thousands  of  enlightened  and  virtuous  whigs 
breathed  it  with  equal  ardour.  The  gallant  duke  of 
Buckingham,  on  hearing  how  bravely  the  Ameri- 
cans had  behaved  at  Lexington,  exclaimed,  "  Well, 
thank  God !  there  are  yet  some  veins  in  the  world 
that  beat  high  with  British  blood  !" 

Lord  Effingham,  also,  being  required  to  take  up 
arms  against  the  Americans,  returned  his  sword  to 
the  king,  saying,  "  he  had  received  it  on  oath,  to 
maintain  the  cause  of  justice,  not  of  oppression  ! !" 

But  though  the  right  heads  in  England  were  nu- 
merous, they  were  not  sufficiently  so  to  direct  the 
wrong  heads.  A  feeble  minister,  and  his  puny 
lordlings,  still  held  the  reins:  and  though, compared 
with  the  great  nation  which  they  governed,  they 
seemed  but  as  monkeys  on  the  back  of  a  mammoth, 
yet  they  had,  too  long,  the  fatal  art  so  to  blindfold 
and  goad  the  noble  animal,  as  to  make  her  run  riot 
over  her  own  children,  and  crush  thousands  of  them 
into  their  bloody  graves. 

On  this  day,  June  12,  1775,  General  Gage  issued 
his  proclamation  of  rebellion,  with  threats  of  heaviest 
vengeance  against  the  rebels;  extending  however  in 
the  king's  name,  the  golden  sceptre  of  mercy  to  all 
true  penitents,  Samuel  Adams,  and  John  Hancock, 
excepted.  These  gentlemen,  by  their  extraordinary 
zeal  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  had  so  mortally  offended 
the  ministry,  that  nothing  short  of  their  lives  could 
make  atonement.  Orders  were  sent  privately  to 
General  Gage,  to  seize  and  hang  them  in  Boston,  or 
to  send  them  over  in  irons  to  be  hung  in  England. 
But  God  gave  his  angels  charge  of  them,  so  that  not 
a  hair  of  their  heads  was  hurt. 

The  British,  10,000  strong,  were  still  ii>  Boston, 

7 


80  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

where,  ever  since  the  affair  of  Concord,  they  had 
been  surrounded  by  an  army  of  20,000  provincials, 
all  so  eager  to  take  the  city  by  storm,  that  it  was 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  their  officers  could  res- 
train them. 

How  adorable  the  goodness  of  God  for  ordering 
that  the  ministerial  attack  on  our  liberties,  should  fall 
on  the  populous  and  high-toned  New-Englanders ! 
The  heroic  spirit  with  which  they  repelled  it,  should 
to  eternity,  endear  them  to  their  southern  brethren. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Battle  of  Bunker's-hill — of  Sullivan's  Island— Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence — Defeat  of  the  Americans  on  Long-Island — How* 
threatens  violently — Times  squally. 

And  fame  of  Bunker's  hill  endure, 

Till  time  itself  shall  be  no  more. 

THIS  hill  of  fame  still  lifts  its  yellow  brow,  half 
hid  in  sedge,  on  the  plains  of  Charlestown — a  lovely 
port  north  of  Boston,  to  which  it  is  united  by  an  ele- 
gant bridge.  To  confine  the  British  as  closely  as 
possible  to  Boston,  the  American  generals,  on  the 
night  of  June  16,  despatched  1500  men  to  throw  up 
an  entrenchment  on  Bunker's-hill.  The  party  did 
not  begin  their  work  till  about  12  o'clock ;  but  ex- 
erted such  a  spirit,  that,  by  day-break,  they  had  sur- 
rounded themselves  with  a  tolerably  decent  ditch — 
without  embrasures  indeed,  because  they  had  no 
cannon  to  stare  through  them;  nor  even  a  bayonet 
to  bristle  over  its  ridges. 

Soon  as  the  rosy  morn  appeared,  they  were  disco- 
vered by  the  British  men  of  war,  which  quickly  salut- 
ed them  with  their  great  guns  and  mortars.  But,  re- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  81 

gardless  of  shells  and  shot,  the  dauntless  Yankees 
still  drank  their  Switchel*  and  plied  their  work. 

Finding  that  his  ships  of  war,  with  all  their  thun 
ders,  had  not  been  able  to  dislodge  them,  Gage  or- 
dered to  their  aid  3000  men  with  a  train  of  artillery, 
under  command  of  Generals  Howe  and  Pigot.  By 
twelve  o'clock  they  were  all  safely  landed  on  the 
Charlestown  side,  near  Bunker's-hill,  the  destined 
place  of  storm.  An  interesting  scene  is  now  about 
to  open — for  not  only  the  British  and  American 
armies  from  the  neighbouring  heights,  are  eagerly 
looking  on  ;  but  all  the  surrounding  country,  timely 
alarmed,  are  running  together,  in  terror,  to  behold 
the  coming  fight.  Among  the  crowding  spectators 
are  seen  thousands  of  tender  females,  with  panting 
bosoms  and  watery  eyes,  fixed  upon  the  fields  below, 
anxiously  waiting  the  fate  of  their  brothers,  fathers, 
and  husbands.  After  a  hurried  moment  spent  in 
forming,  the  British  troops  began  to  advance  in 
heavy  columns,  with  all  the  martial  pomp  of  flying 
colours  and  rattling  drums.  At  the  same  time,  by 
order  of  Gage,  the  beautiful  port  of  Charlestown,  of 
300  fine  buildings,  with  a  tall  steepled  church,  was 
wrapped  in  flames,  roaring  like  distant  thunder,  and 
tossed  on  eddying  winds  in  fiery  billows  to  the 
clouds — while,  far  and  wide,  the  adjoining  plains  are 
covered  with  British  soldiers  in  crimson  regimentals 
and  shining  arms,  moving  on  the  attack  with  inces- 
sant discharges  of  muskets  and  great  guns.  Close, 
on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  appears  the  little  fort,  dimly 
seen  through  smoke,  and  waved  over  by  one  solitary 
flag,  and  very  unlike  to  stand  the  shock  of  so  power- 
ful an  armament.  But  the  Americans  are  all  wound 
up  to  the  height  of  the  enthusiasm  of  Liberty :  and, 


*  A  mild  and  moralizing  malmsey,  made  of  molasses  and  water, 
which  the  prudent  Yankees  drink,  to  the  great  benefit  of  their  health 
«.nd  senses,  while  too  many  of  their  southern  neighbours  are  ue-fool 
•ng  and  bu-jiuisoning  themselves  with  grog. 


82  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

lying  close  behind  their  works,  with  fowling  pieces 
loaded  with  ball  and  buckshot,  wait  impatiently  for 
the  approaching  enemy.  Their  brave  countrymen, 
Putnam  and  Warren,  are  in  the  fort,  constantly 
reminding  them  of  that  glorious  inheritance,  Liberty, 
which  they  received  from  their  gallant  fathers,  and 
now  owe  to  their  own  dear  children.  "  Don't  throw 
away  a  single  shot,  my  brave  fellows,"  said  old  Put- 
nam. "  Don't  throw  away  a  single  shot ;  but  take 
good  aim :  nor  touch  a  trigger,  till  you  can  see  the 
whites  of  their  eyes." 

This  steady  reserve  of  fire,  even  after  the  British 
had  come  up  within  pistol-shot,  led  them  to  hope 
that  the  Americans  did  not  mean  to  resist,  and  many 
of  their  friends  on  the  heights  had  nearly  given  up 
all  for  lost.  But  as  soon  as  the  enemy  were  advanced 
within  the  fatal  distance  marked,  all  at  once  a  thou- 
sand triggers  were  drawn :  and  a  sheet  of  fire,  wide 
as  the  whole  front  of  the  breast-work,  bursted  upon 
them  with  most  ruinous  effect.  The  British  instantly 
came  to  a  halt — still  keeping  up  their  fire — but  alto- 
gether at  random  and  ineffectual,  like  men  in  a  panic. 
While  full  exposed,  within  point-blank  shot,  ranks 
on  ranks  fell  before  the  American  marksmen,  as  the 
heavy-eared  corn  before  the  devouring  hail  storm, 
when  with  whirlwind  rage  it  smites  the  trembling 
earth,  and  rushes  on,  smoking  and  roaring  through 
the  desolated  fields.  The  enemy  still  maintained 
their  ground  like  Britons,  though  all  in  front  was 
nothing  but  one  wide  destructive  flash  ;  and  nought 
around  but  heaps  of  their  shrieking,  dying  comrades. 
But  in  a  few  minutes  the  slaughter  became  so 
general,  that  they  could  stand  it  no  longer,  but  broke 
and  tied  in  the  utmost  disorder,  to  the  shore  side;  and 
some  even  took  refuge  in  their  boats  !  Their  officers 
with  some  difficulty  brought  them  back  to  a  second 
charge,  when  the  Americans,  waiting  till  they  had 
come  up  within  a  few  rods  of  the  fort,  recommenced 
their  fire,  with  a  mortality  which  broke  and  drove 


BATTLE    OF    BUNKER'S    HILL. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  85 

them  again.  Some  of  the  officers  attempted  to  bring 
tnem  on  a  third  time,  but  others  cried  out,  "that  it 
\v  as  no  better  than  murder !"  It  is  probable  they 
would  hardly  have  made  another  effort,  had  not  the 
generals  Clinton  and  Burgoyne,  spectators  of  their 
defeat,  hastened  over  from  Boston  with  fresh  troops 
to  their  aid. 

The  Americans,  being  nearly  destitute  of  ammuni- 
tion, and  attacked  by  such  superior  force,  were 
obliged  to  retreat,  which  they  did  in  tolerable  order, 
hut  not  till  they  had  given  the  enemy,  as  they 
mounted  the  works,  their  last  cartridges,  and  to  some 
of  them  the  buts  of  their  guns — for  want  of  bayonets. 
The  British,  'tis  true,  by  such  great  advantage  of 
numbers  and  weapons,  gained  the  day;  but  sung  no 
te  deum.  To  have  given  1350  men  killed  and 
wounded,  for  a  poor  ditch  of  12  hours  labour, 
seemed  to  them  a  bargain  hardly  worth  thanking 
God  for. 

Among  the  Heroes  whom  this  day  immolated  on 
the  altar  of  Patriotism,  was  Dr.  Joseph  Warren, 
whose  memory  will  be  held  sacred  as  long  as  grati- 
tude or  honour  live  among  men.  The  British  lost 
Major  Pitcairn,  author  of  the  murders  at  Lexington, 
a  few  weeks  before ! 

During  the  autumn  and  winter  of  1775,  Washing- 
ton could  effect  nothing  against  the  British,  but  to 
hold  them  close  confined  in  Boston,  where  the  scurvy 
prevailed,  and  proved  very  fatal.  To  remedy  this 
evil,  immense  quantities  of  livestock  and  vegetables 
were  shipped  from  Britain — 5,000  fat  oxen;  14,000 
sheep — 12,000  hogs,  with  22,000  pounds  sterling 
worth  of  sour-crout ! ! !  And  nearly  the  same  amount 
in  hay,  oats  and  beans,  for  a  single  reg'ment  of 
cavalry!!  "Blessed  are  the  meek!"  for  they  shall 
save  a  world  of  expense. 

In  consequence  of  some  disturbances  this  year,  in 
South  Carolina,  in  favour  of  the  ministry,  Sir  Peter 

Parker  vyas  dispatched  with  nine  ships  of  war,  and 

* 


86  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

a  iarg  j  iand  force,  commanded  by  Clinton  and  Corn 
vallis,  to  make  an  attempt  on  Charleston,  the  capi- 
tal.    Before  the  ships  could  be  brought  to  pay  their 
respects  to  the  town,  they  must,  it  seems,  pass  a 
little   fort  on   Sullivan's   Island.      This,  however, 
being  defended  only    by  raw  militia,  was  hardly 
looked  on  as  an  obstacle.     Happily  for  America,  the 
command  of  the  fort  had  been  committed  to  General 
Moultrie ;  for  the  chief  in  command,  Gen.  Charles 
Lee,  though  otherwise  brave,  was  ever  in  the  frights 
at  the  thought  of  a  British  man  of  war ;  and  for  a 
general,  much  too  free  in  lending  his  fear  to  others. 
For,  while  Moultrie  was  showing  him  the  fort,  and 
in  the  language  of  a  fiery  patriot  was  boasting  what 
handsome  resistance  he  hoped  it  would  make  ;  Lee 
with  infinite  scorn  replied, "  Pshaw !  a  mere  slaughter 
house !  a  mere  slaughter  house !  a  British  man  of 
war  will  knock  it  about  your  ears  in  half  an  hour!" 
He  even  proposed  to  abandon    the    fort  !      The 
courage  of  one  man  saved  Charleston,  and  perhaps 
the  State.     That  fortunate  man  was  John  Rutledge, 
Esq.,  governor  of  South  Carolina.     He  insisted  that 
the  fort  should  be  defended  to  the  last  extremity. 
Moultrie  was  called  in.     "  Well,  General  Moultrie," 
said  Gov.  Rutledge,  "  what  do  you  think  of  giving 
up  the  fort !"     Moultrie  could  scarcely  suppress  his 
indignation.     "  No  man,  sir,"  said  he  to  Lee,  «  can 
have  a  higner  opinion  of  the  British  ships  and  sea- 
men than  I  have.     But  there  are  others  who  love 
the  smell  of  gunpowder  as  well  as  they  do;  and 
give  us  but  plenty  of  powder  and  ball,  sir,  and  let 
them  come  on  as  soon  as  they  please."   His  courage 
was  quickly  put  to  the  test ;  for  about  10  o'clock,  on 
the  28th  of  June,  in  the  glorious  1776,  Sir  Peter 
Parker,  with  seven  tall  ships  formed  his  line,  and 
bearing  down  within  point-blank  shot  of  the  fort,  let 
go  his  anchors  and  began  a  tremendous  fire.     At 
every  thundering  blast  he  fondly  hoped  to  see  the 
militia  take  to  the  sands  like  frightened  rats  from  an 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  87 

old  barn  on  fire.  But,  widely  different  from  hist 
hopes,  the  militia  stood  their  ground,  firm  as  th«> 
Black-jacks  of  their  land ;  and  levelling  their  four- 
and-twenty  pounders  with  good  aim,  bored  the  old 
hearts  of  oak  through  and  through  at  every  fire 
Their  third  broadside  carried  away  the  springs  on 
the  cables  of  the  commodore's  ship,  which  immedia- 
tely swung  around  right  stern  upon  the  guns  of  the 
fort — "  Hurra !  my  sons  of  thunder,"  was  instantly 
the  cry  along  the  American  battery,  "  look  hand- 
somely to  the  commodore  !  now  my  boys,  for  your 
best  respects  to  the  commodore  !"  Little  did  the 
commodore  thank  them  for  such  respects ;  for  in  a 
short  time  he  had  60  of  his  brave  crew  lying  lifeless 
on  his  decks,  and  his  cockpit  stowed  with  the  wound 
ed.  At  one  period  of  the  action,  the  quarter-deck 
was  cleared  of  every  soul,  except  Sir  Peter  himself. 
Nor  was  he  entirely  excused  ;  for  an  honest  cannon 
ball,  by  way  of  broad  hint  that  it  was  out  of  charac- 
ter for  a  Briton  to  fight  against  liberty,  rudely 
snatched  away  the  bag  of  his  silk  breeches.  Thus 
Sir  Peter  had  the  honour  to  be  the  first,  and  I  believe 
the  only  Sans  Culotte  ever  heard  of  in  American 
natural  history ! ! 

The  Americans  stood  the  fire  like  SALAMANDERS  ; 
for  the  neighbouring  shores  were  lined  with  thousands 
of  their  dearest  relatives,  anxiously  looking  on  !  the 
British  tars,  poor  fellows  !  had  no  sisters,  mothers, 
nor  wives,  spectators  of  their  strife  ;  but  fought,  not- 
withstanding, with  their  wonted  heroism.  Long 
accustomed  to  mastery  in  battles  with  the  French 
and  greatly  out-numbering  the  fort  both  in  men  and 
guns,  they  counted  on  certain  victory ;  and  though 
drreadfully  handled,  scorned  to  yield.  Immense 
were  the  exertions  on  both  sides ;  and  while  the 
powder  of  the  fort  lasted,  the  conflict  was  awfully 
grand — From  ships  to  fort,  and  from  fort  to  ships 
again,  all  below  seemed  one  stream  of  solid  fire ;  all 
aba  re,  one  vast  mountain  of  smoke  darkening  the 


8ft  MFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

day,  while  unintermitted  bursts  of  thunder  deafened 
all  ears,  and  far  around  shook  both  land  and  sea. 

The  heroes  in  the  fort  won  immortal  honour.  One 
brave  fellow,  a  Sergeant  Jasper,  observing  the  flag- 
staff shot  away,  jumped  down  from  the  fort  on  the 
beach,  in  the  hottest  fury  of  the  battle,  and  snatching 
up  he  flag,  returned  it  to  its  place,  streaming  defi- 
ance, with  a — "  Hurra,  my  boys,  liberty  and  America 
for  ever."  Governor  Rutledge  rewarded  him  with  a 
sword.  Another  Sergeant,  M'Donald,  while  roaring 
away  with  his  24  pounder,  was  terribly  shattered  by 
a  cannon  ball.  When  about  to  expire,  he  lifted  up 
his  dying  eyes  and  said — "  My  brave  countrymen,  I 
die  ;  but  don't  let  the  cause  of  Liberty  die  with  me." 
Now  louder  and  louder  still,  peal  on  peal,  the  Ame- 
rican thunder  burst  forth  with  earth-trembling  crash- 
es :  and  the  British  ships,  after  a  long  and  gallant 
struggle,  hauled  off  with  a  good  fortnight's  worth  of 
work  for  surgeons,  carpenters  and  riggers. 

Sir  Peter  was  so  dumb-founded  by  this  drubbing, 
that  it  took  him  full  eight-and  forty-hours  to  recover 
his  stomach  for  his  beef  and  pudding.  So  wonderful- 
ly had  it  let  him  down, that  even  his  black  pilots  grew 
impudent  upon  him.  For  as  he  was  going  out  over 
the  bar,  he  called  to  Cudjo  (a  black  fellow,  a  pilot 
who  was  sounding  the  depth  of  the  water) "  Cud- 
jo !  (says  he)  what  water  have  you  got  there  ?" 

« What  water,  massa  ?  what  water  ?  why  salt 
water,  be  sure,  sir  ? — sea  water  alway  salt  water,  an't 
he,  massa  ?" 

"  You  black  rascal,  I  knew  it  was  salt  water.  1 
only  wanted  to  know  how  much  water  you  have 
there  ?" 

«  How  much  water  here,  massa  ?  how  much  water 
here  !  God  bless  me,  massa!  where  I  going  get  quart 
pot  for  measure  him  ?" 

This  was  right  down  impudence ;  and  Cudjo  richly 
deserved  a  rope's  end  for  it ;  but  Sir  Peter,  a  good 
naturcd  man,  was  so  tickled  with  the  idea  of  measu/- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  89 

ing  the  Atlantic  ocean  with  a  quart  pot,  tnat  he  broke 
into  a  hearty  laugh,  and  ordered  Cudjo  a  stiff  drink 
of  grog. 

'Twas  the  celebrated  Samuel  Chase,  the  Demos- 
thenes of  Maryland,  who  first  taught  the  startler, 
vaults  of  Congress  hall  to  re-echo  the  name  of  Inde 
pendence.     After  enumerating  many  a  glaring  in 
stance  of  ministerial  violation  of  American  rights- 
on  all  of  which  George  III.,  the  expected  father  01 
his  people,  had  looked  with  a  most  unfatherly  calm- 
ness— his  countenance  became  like  the  dark  stormy 
cloud  edged  with  lightning — then  swinging  his  arm 
in  the  air,  with  a  tremendous  stamp  and  voice  of 
thunder,  that  made  the  hollow  dome  resound,  ho 

swore a  mighty  oath,  "that  he  owed  no  allegiance 

to  the  king  of  England  !" 

Many  in  Congress  trembled  at  hearing  such  a 
speech ;  and,  on  mention  of  Independence,  felt  the 
pang  which  nature  feels  when  soul  and  body  are 
parting.  But  fearing  that  "  true  friendship  could 
never  grow  again,  where  wounds  of  deadly  hate  had 
pierced  so  deep,"  they  at  length  resolved  to  part. 
The  gentlemen  appointed  by  Congress  to  frame  the 
declaration  of  Independence,  were  THOMAS  JEFFER- 
SON, JOHN  ADAMS,  DR.  FRANKLIN,  R.  SHERMAN  and 
R.  LIVINGSTON.  On  hearing  their  nomination  to  a 
task  so  high  and  arduous,  they  met ;  and  after  some 
conversation  on  the  subject,  parted,  under  the  agree- 
ment that  each  of  their  number  should  draft  his  own 
declaration,  and  read  it  next  day,  in  rotation  to  the 
rest.  At  the  fixed  hour  next  day,  they  met — but 
"  who  should  read  first,"  was  the  question.  Mr. 
Jefferson  was  fixed  on  ;  and,  after  much  importunity, 
consented  to  read  his  form,  which  had  the  honour  to 
give  such  complete  satisfaction,  that  none  other  was 
read. 

A  few  days  after  this,  Lord  Howe  came  upon  the 
coast  with  a  forest  of  men  of  war  and  transports, 
shading  far  and  wide  the  frightened  ocean,  aud 

8* 


W>  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

healing  nearly  40,000  men,  British,  Hessians,  and 
Waldeckers.  Supposing  that  this  had  intimidated 
the  American  commander,  Lord  Howe  wrote  a  letter 
to  him,  directed — "  George  Washington,  Esq."  This 
the  general  refused  to  receive  !  looking  on  it  as  an 
insult  to  Congress  under  whom  he  had  the  honour  to 
bear  the  commission  of  Commander  in  Chief,  and 
should  have  been  addressed  as  such.  General  Howe 
then  sent  an  officer  (Colonel  Patterson)  to  converse 
with  him  on  the  subject  of  reconciliation — Having 
heard  what  he  had  to  say,  Washington  replied,  "  by 
what  has  yet.  appeared,  sir,  you  have  no  power  but 
to  grant  pardons.  But  we  who  have  committed  nc 
faults,  want  no  pardons ;  for  we  are  only  fighting 
for  our  rights  as  the  descendants  of  Englishmen." 

The  unfortunate  defeat  of  Long-Island  now  took 
place  on  August  28th,  which  though  the  hottest  day 
in  the  year,  had  like  to  have  been  the  freezing  point 
in  the  American  affairs.  For  on  this  day,  the  British, 
with  an  infinite  superiority  of  force,  after  having  de- 
feated the  Americans  with  great  loss,  were  investing 
the  slender  remains  of  their  army  ;  and  had  actually 
broke  ground  within  six  hundred  yards  of  the  little 
redoubt  that  feebly  covered  their  front.  Soon  as  it 
was  dark,  Washington  ordered  the  troops  to  convey 
their  baggage  and  artillery  to  the  water  side,  whence 
it  was  transported  over  a  broad  ferry  all  night  long, 
with  amazing  silence  and  order.  Providentially  a 
thick  fog  continued  next  morning  till  ten  o'clock ; 
when  that  passed  away,  and  the  sun  broke  out,  the 
British  were  equally  surprised  and  enraged  to  see  the 
rear  guard  with  the  last  of  the  baggage  in  their  boats, 
and  out  of  all  danger. 

Lord  Howe,  supposing  that  such  a  run  of  misfor- 
tunes must  have  put  congress  into  a  good  humour  to 
think  about  peace,  signified  a  willingness  to  have  a 
grand  talk  on  the  subject.  Congress  sent  Dr.  Frank- 
lin, Mr.  Adams,  and  Mr.  Rutledge,  each  with  his 
belt  of  wampum.  But  finding  that  his  lordship  was 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  91 

•till  harping  on  the  old  string,  pardons !  pardons ' 
they  very  soon  closed  the  conference. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  trying  campaign,  it  is  a 
i'act,  that  Washington  had  not  3000  men  ;  and  even 
these  were  so  destitute  of  necessaries,  that  nothing 
but  their  love  and  veneration  for  him  kept  them  to- 
gether. And  with  this  handful  he  had  to  oppose  a 
victorious  army,  of  nearly  forty  thousand  veterans  I ! 
But  Jehovah,  the  God  of  Hosts,  was  with  him  :  and 
oft'  times,  in  the  ear  of  the  slumbering  hero,  his  voice 
was  heard,  "  fear  not ;  for  I  am  with  thee.  Be  not 
dismayed ;  for  I  am  thy  God." — Hence  under  all 
the  disheartening  circumstances  of  this  campaign, 
Washington  not  only  kept  up  his  own  spirits,  but 
cheered  those  of  his  drooping  comrades.  Hearing 
his  officers  one  day  talk  about  the  gloominess  of  the 
American  affiairs,  he  humorously  clasped  his  neck 
with  his  hands,  and  said  with  a  smile, «« I  really  can 
riot  believe  yet,  that  my  neck  was  ever  made  for  a 
halter!" 

For  four  months  during  the  summer  and  fall  01 
1776,  the  Americans  were  obliged  to  retreat  before 
the  enemy,  who  completely  over-ran  the  Jerseys,  fill- 
ing every  town  and  hamlet  with  their  victorious 
troops — During  their  pursuit  through  the  Jerseys,  the 
behaviour  of  the  Hessians  towards  the  country  peo- 
ple was  barbarous  in  the  extreme.  To  make  them 
fight  the  better,  it  seems  that  they  had  been  told  that 
the  Americans,  against  whom  they  were  warring, 
were  not  (like  the  Europeans)  Christians  and  gentle- 
men, but  mere  savages,  a  race  of  Cannibals,  who 
would  not  only  tomahawk  a  poor  Hessian,  and  haul 
off  his  hide  for  a  drum's  head,  but  would  just  as  leave 
barbacue  and  eat  him  as  they  would  a  pig.  "  Vat ! 
Vat  I"  cried  the  Waldeckers,  with  eyes  staring  wild 
and  big  as  billiard  bails,  "  Vat !  eat  Hessian  man  up 
ake  vim  hog  !  Oh  mine  God  and  Vader  !  vot  peoples 
ever  been  heard  of  eat  Christian  man  before  '  Vy 
shure,  des  M  erica  us  must  be  de  deble." 


92  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

This  was  Hessian  logic  :  and  it  inspired  them  with 
the  utmost  abhorrence  of  the  Americans,  to  whom 
they  thought  the  worst  treatment  much  too  good — 
they  burnt  houses — destroyed  furniture — killed  the 
stock — abused  the  women  !  and  spread  consterna- 
tion and  ruin  along  all  their  march. 

To  save  their  families  from  such  horrid  tragedies, 
the  Americans  flocked  in  by  thousands  to  general 
Howe,  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance.  And  the  best 
judges  were  of  opinion,  that  this  alarming  apostacy 
would  soon  become  general  throughout  the  two  great 
states  of  Pennsylvania  and  New-Jersey  !  And  indeed 
no  wonder  ;  for  to  most  people  it  appeared  that  the 
cause  of  liberty  was  a  gone  cause.  But,  still  firm  as 
the  iron  rudder-bands  that  maintain  the  course  of  the 
ship  in  her  trembling  flight  over  raging  seas,  so  firm- 
ly did  Washington  cleave  to  his  countrymen,  and 
cover  their  retreat. 

They  had  been  obliged  to  retreat  from  Long- 
Island  to  New- York,  from  New-York,  over  the  Hud- 
son, to  New-Jersey,  arid  now  over  the  Delaware,  to 
Pennsylvania.  "  My  God  !"  general  Washington, 
"  how  long  shall  we  retreat  ?"  said  general  Reed, 
"  where  shall  we  stop  ?"  "  Why  sir,"  replied  Wash- 
ington, "  if  we  can  do  no  better,  we'll  retreat  over 
every  river  in  America;  and  last  of  all  over  the 
mountains,  whence  we  shall  never  lack  opportunities 
to  annoy,  and  finally,  I  hope,  to  expel  the  enemies 
of  our  country." 

But,  God  be  thanked,  our  toils  and  trials  were  not 
to  be  pushed  to  such  sad  extremities :  for  general 
Howe,  having  driven  the  Americans  to  the  western 
side  of  the  Delaware,  stationed  4000  men  in  Trenton, 
Bordentown,  and  Burlington',  on  its  eastern  bank  ; 
and  then  returned  with  the  main  army  to  eat  their 
winter  puddings  in  Brunswick  and  New-York.  Here 
Washington,  with  joy,  first  discovered  an  opportu- 
nity to  make  a  blow.  Not  doubting,  but  that  such 
a  long  run  of  success  had  taught  the  enemy  to  think 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  9b 

«rery  highly  of  themselves,  and  as  meanly  A  the 
Americans ;  and  suspecting,  too,  that  at  Christmas, 
which  was  close  at  hand,  instead  of  watching  and 
praying  like  good  Christians,  they  would,  very  like- 
ly, be  drinking  and  hopping  like  fools,  he  determined 
then  and  there  if  possible  to  break  up  their  winter 
quarters.  To  this  end  he  broke  his  little  remnant 
of  an  army  into  three  divisions ;  two  of  which  he 
committed  to  Generals  Ewing  and  Cadwallader  to 
attack  at  Bordentown  and  Burlington.  The  third  he 
meant  to  lead  in  person  to  the  heavier  charge  on 
Trenton.  Every  thing  being  in  readiness  by  Christ- 
mas night,  as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  they  struck  their 
tents,  and  moved  off  in  high  spirits,  once  more  to  try 
their  fortune  against  an  enemy  long  victorious.  But 
alas  !  the  enthusiasm  of  the  gallant  Cadwallader  and 
Ewing  was  soon  arrested;  for  on  arriving  at  the 
river,  they  found  it  so  filled  with  ice,  as  to  preclude 
all  possibility  of  crossing.  Thus,  to  their  inexpressi- 
ble grief,  was  blasted  the  ardent  wish  to  aid  their 
beloved  chief  in  this  his  last  bold  attempt  to  save 
America.  Ignorant  of  the  failure  of  two-thirds  ot 
his  plan,  Washington  and  his  little  forlorn  hope, 
pressed  on  through  the  darksome  night,  pelted  by  an 
incessant  storm  of  hail  and  snow.  On  approaching 
the  river,  nine  miles  above  Trenton,  they  heard  the 
unwelcome  roar  of  ice,  loud  crashing  along  the  angry 
flood.  But  the  object  before  them  was  too  vast  to 
allow  one  thought  about  difficulties.  The  troops 
were  instantly  embarked,  and  after  five  hours  of  in- 
finite toil  and  danger,  landed,  some  of  them  frost 
bitten,  on  the  same  shores  with  the  enemy.  Form- 
ing the  line,  they  renewed  their  march.  Pale,  and 
slowly  moving  along  the  neighbouring  hills  was  seen, 
(by  Fancy's  eye)  the  weeping  genius  of  liberty. 
Driven  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  she  had  fled  to  the 
wild  woods  of  America,  as  to  an  assured  asylum  of 

resi. Here   she   fondly   hoped,   through   long 

unfailing  time,  to  see  her  children   pursuing  theii 

8 


94  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

cheerful  toils,  unstarved  and  imcrushed  by  the  inhu 
man  few.  But  alas  !  the  inhuman  few,  with  fleets 
and  armies,  had  pursued  her  flight !  Her  sons  had 
gathered  around  her,  but  they  had  failed — some,  on 
their  bloody  beds ;  others  dispersed  ;  all  desponding 
One  little  band  alone  remained  !  and,  now,  resolved 
to  defend  her  or  perish,  were  in  rapid  march  to  face 
her  foes.  Pale  and  in  tears,  with  eyes  often  lifted  to 
Heaven,  she  moved  along  with  her  children  to  wit- 
ness perhaps  the  last  conflict. 

The  Sun  had  just  tipped  with  gold  the  adjacent 
hills,  when  snowy  Trenton,  with  the  wide-tented 
fields  of  the  foe,  hove  in  sight.  To  the  young  in  arms 
this  was  an  awful  scene  :  and  Nature  called  a  short 
lived  terror  to  their  hearts.  But  not  unseen  of 
Washington  was  their  fear.  He  marked  the  sudden 
paleness  of  their  cheeks,  when  first  they  beheld  the 
enemy,  and  quick,  with  half-stifled  sighs,  turned  on 
him  their  wistful  looks.  As  the  big  lion  of  Zara, 
calling  his  brindled  sons  to  battle  against  the  mighty 
rhinoceros,  if  he  mark  their  falling  manes,  and  sees 
them  crouching  to  his  side,  instantly  puts  on  all  his 
terrors — his  eyes  roll  in  blood — he  shakes  the  forest 
with  the  deepening  roar,  till,  kindled  by  their  father's 
fire,  the  maddening  cubs  swell  with  answering  rage, 
and  spring  undaunted  on  the  monster.  Thus  stately 
and  terrible  rode  Columbia's  first  and  greatest  son, 
along  the  front  of  his  halting  troops.  The  eager 
wish  for  battle  flushed  over  his  burning  face,  as,  rising 
on  his  stirrups,  he  waved  his  sword  towards  the 
hostile  camp,  and  exclaimed,  "  There !  my  brave 
friends!  there  are  the  enemies  of  your  country  !  and 
now,  all  I  ask  of  you,  is,  just  to  remember  what  you 
are  about  to  fight  for.  March !"  His  looks  and 
voice  rekindled  all  their  fire, and  drove  them  undaunt- 
ed to  the  charge.  The  enemy  saw  their  danger 
when  it  was  too  late  !  but,  as  if  resolved  by  taxing 
their  courage,  to  pay  for  their  carelessness,  they  roused 
the  thunder  of  their  drums,  and  flew  to  arms.  But 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  95 

before  they  could  form,  the  Americans,  led  on  by 
Washington,  advanced  upon  them  in  a  stream  ot 
lightning,  which  soon  decided  the  contest.  By  the 
musket  of  the  intrepid  captain  (now  General)  Freling- 
huysen,  of  New  Jersey,  fell  Col.  Rahl,  a  brave  Ger- 
man who  commanded  the  enemy.  The  ghosts  of  forty 
of  his  countrymen  accompanied  him ;  and  very  nearly 
one  thousand  were  made  prisoners.  Five  hundred 
British  horse  effected  their  escape  to  Bordentown. 
Could  Ewmg  and  Cadwallader  have  crossed  the 
river,  agreeably  to  Washington's  plan,  the  enemy's 
whole  line  of  cantonments  would  have  been  com 
pletely  swept ! ! 

To  rouse  his  desponding  countrymen  Washington 
immediately  marched  down  to  Philadelphia,  and 
made  triumphal  entry  with  his  prisoners,  preceded 
by  their  cannon  and  colours,  and  wagons,  bristling 
with  muskets  and  bayonets.  The  poor  tories  couid 
scarcely  believe  their  own  eyes.  Many  of  the  whigs 
wept  for  joy. 

To  remove  from  the  minds  of  the  Hessians,  their 
ill-grounded  dread  of  the  Americans,  Washington 
took  great  care,  from  the  moment  they  fell  into  his 
hands,  to  have  them  treated  with  the  utmost  tenderness 
and  generosity.  He  contrived  that  the  wealthy  Dutch 
farmers  should  come  in  from  the  country  and  converse 
with  them.  They  seemed  very  agreeably  surprised 
at  such  friendly  attentions.  The  Dutchmen  at  length 
proposed  to  them  to  quit  the  British  service  and 
become  farmers. — At  this  the  Hessians  paused  a  little 
and  said  something  about  parting  with  their  country. 

"  Your  country  !"  said  the  farmers.  "  Poor  fel- 
lows !  where  is  your  country  ?  You  have  no  country. 
To  support  his  pomps  and  pleasures  your  prince  has 
torn  you  from  your  country,  and  for  30/.  a-head  sole 
you  like  slaves  to  fight  against  us,  who  nevei 
troubled  you.  Then  leave  the  vile  employment  anc 
come  live  with  us.  Our  lands  are  rich.  Come  helf 
us  to  cultivate  them  Our  tables  are  covered  with 


*6  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

fat  meats,  and  with  milk  and  honey.  Come  sit  down 
and  eat  with  us  like  brothers.  Our  daughters  are 
young  and  beautiful  and  good.  Then  shew  your- 
selves worthy,  and  you  shall  have  our  daughters : 
and  we  will  give  you  of  our  lands  and  cattle,  that 
you  may  work,  and  become  rich  and  happy  as  we 
are.  You  were  told  that  General  Washington  and 
the  Americans  were  savages  and  would  devour  you! 
But  from  the  moment  you  threw  down  your  arms, 
have  they  not  been  as  kind  to  you  as  you  had  any 
right  to  expect  ?" 

"  0  yes  !"  cried  they,  "  and  a  thousand  times 
more  kind  than  we  deserved.  We  were  told  the 
Americans  would  show  us  no  pity,  and  so  we  were 
cruel  to  them.  But  we  are  sorry  for  it  now,  since 
they  have  been  so  good  to  us :  and  now  we  love  the 
Americans,  and  will  never  fight  against  them  any 
more  !" 

Such  was  the  effect  of  Washington's  policy ;  the 
divine  policy  of  doing  good  for  evil.  It  melted  down 
his  iron  enemies  into  golden  friends.  It  caused  the 
Hessian  soldiers  to  join  with  the  American  farmers  ! 
— not  only  so,  but  to  write  such  letters  to  their 
countrymen,  that  they  were  constantly  breaking 
loose  from  the  British  to  run  over  to  the  Americans 
— insomuch  that  in  a  little  time  the  British  would 
hardly  trust  a  Hessian  to  stand  sentinel ! 

Though  this  victory  was  gained  on  the  26th  of 
December,  yet  we  find  Washington  again,  on  the 
1st  of  January,  across  the  angry  Delaware,  with  his 
country's  flag  bold  waving  over  the  heights  of  Tren- 
ton. Lord  Cornwallis  advanced  in  great  force  to 
attack  him.  The  Americans  retreated  through  the 
town,  and  crossing  the  Sanpink  (a  creek  that  runs 
along  its  eastern  side,)  planted  their  cannon  near  the 
ford,  to  defend  its  passage.  The  British  arrny 
following,  close  in  their  rear,  entered  the  town  about 
four  o'clock  ;  and  a  heavy  cannonade  commenced 
between  the  two  armies,  which  were  separated  only 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  97 

by  the  Sanpink  and  its  narrow  valley.  "  Now,  sir!" 
said  Sir  William  Erskine  to  Cornwallis,  "  now  is  the 
lime  to  make  sure  of  Washington. 

"  Oh  no  !"  replied  Cornwallis,  "  our  troops  have 
marched  a  good  way  to-day  and  are  tired.  And  the 
old  ^ox  can't  make  his  escape ;  for,  with  the  help  or 
the  Delaware  now  filled  up  with  ice,  we  have  com- 
pletely surrounded  him.  To-morrow  morning,  fresh 
and  fasting  we'll  fall  upon  him,  and  take  him  and 
his  ragamuffins  all  at  once  !" 

"  Ah !  my  Lord  !"  returned  Sir  William,  "  if 
Washington  be  the  soldier  that  I  fear  he  is,  you'L 
not  see  him  there  to-morrow  morning  !" 

Night  coming  on,  the  artillery  ceased  to  roar;  and 
lighting  up  their  fires,  both  armies  proceeded  to  sup- 
per and  to  sleep.  About  midnight,  having  renewed 
all  the  fires,  Washington  put  his  little  army  in  motion, 
and  passing  along  the  enemy's  rear,  hasted  to  sur- 
prise a  large  body  of  their  troops  at  Princeton.  Soon 
as  it  was  day  Cornwallis  was  greatly  mortified  to 
find  there  was  no  American  army  on  the  banks  of 
the  Sanpink.  "  That's  exactly  what  I  feared,"  said 
Sir  William.  Just  as  they  were  in  deep  thought  on 
the  matter,  they  heard  the  roar  of  Washington's  can- 
non at  Princeton.  "  There,"  continued  Sir  William, 
"  There  is  Washington  now,  cutting  up  our  troops." 
And  so  it  was ;  for  on  arriving  at  Princeton,  about 
sunrise,  Washington  met  three  British  regiments, 
who  had  just  struck  their  tents,  and  were  coming  oa 
in  high  spirits  to  attack  him  at  Trenton.  In  a  mo- 
ment, both  parties  attacked  like  heroes.  At  the  first 
onset  the  Americans  gave  way  ;  but  sensible  that  all 
•vas  at  stake,  Washington  snatched  a  standard,  and 
advancing  on  the  enemy,  called  to  his  countrymen 
to  follow  :  his  countrymen  heard,  and  rushed  on  to 
the  charge.  Then  flash  and  clash  went  the  muskets 
and  bayonets.  Here  the  servants  of  George,  arid 
there  the  sons  of  liberty,  wrapped  in  clouds  and 
flames,  and  inflicting  mutual  wounds. 

9  8* 


M  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

"  God  save  the  king !"  the  British  heroes  cried, 

u  And  God  for  Washington  !"  Columbia's  sons  replied. 

The  name  of  Washington  imparted  its  usual 
animation  to  his  troops.  The  enemy  gave  way  in 
all  quarters,  and  were  pursued  four  miles.  The 
victors  returned  with  400  prisoners  ;  the  bayonet  had 
stopped  120  on  the  field.  But  they  fell  not  alone 
The  gallant  Mercer,  and  sixty-three  of  his  brave 
countrymen  sleep  with  them.  But  the  strife  of  the 
heroes  was  but  for  a  moment ;  and  they  have  forgot- 
ten their  wounds.  Together  now,  they  feast  in 
Paradise,  and  when  meet  their  eyes  of  love,  their 
joys  are  not  dashed  by  the  remembrance  of  the 
past. 

The  British  officers  gave  Washington  full  credit 
for  such  fine  strokes  of  generalship,  and  began  to 
look  thoughtful  whenever  his  name  was  mentioned. 

The  enemy  on  the  15th  of  January  drew  in  all 
their  forces  to  winter-quarters  at  Brunswick,  \v  here 
Washington  continued  to  thin  their  numbers  by  cut- 
ting oft'  their  foraging  parties ;  so  that  every  loau  of 
hay,  or  dish  of  turnips  they  get,  was  at  the  pi  Ice  of 
their  lives. 

Thus  gloriously,  in  ten  days,  was  turned  l/ie  tide 
of  victory  in  favour  of  America,  by  him  whom 
Heaven,  in  mercy  not  to  America  alone,  but  to 
Britain,  and  to  the  world,  had  raised  up  lo  found 
here  a  wide  empire  of  liberty  and  virtue.  The 
character  of  Washington  was  exalted  to  the  highest 
pitch,  even  throughout  Europe,  where  he  was  gene- 
rally styled  the  American  Fabius,  from  the  famous 
Roman  general  of  that  name,  who  opposed  Hannibal 
with  success.  A  distinction  to  which  he  was  justly 
entitled,  from  the  invincible  firmness  with  which  he 
rejected  every  finesse  of  the  British  genenls ;  as 
also,  that  admirable  judgment  with  which  he  suited 
the  defence  of  the  nation  to  the  genius  and  abilities 
of  the  people,  and  to  the  natural  advantages  of  tha 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  96 

country,  thereby  not  allowing  the  enemy  o  pront  by 
their  great  superiority  of  numbers,  discipline,  and 
artillery,  and  constantly  cutting  them  off  by  skir- 
mishes and  surprise. 

The  ministerial  plan  for  1777,  was  to  reduce  the 
Americans,  by  intercepting  all  communications  be- 
tween the  northern  and  southern  states  !  To  effect 
this  object  General  Howe,  with  20  thousand  men, 
was  to  go  round  from  New  York  to  the  Head  of 
Elk,  and  thence  march  on,  due  north,  through  Phila- 
delphia ;  while  General  Burgoyne,  with  10,000  men, 
setting  out  from  Canada,  was  to  pass  down  the 
lakes,  and  thence  due  south  to  meet  his  colleague 
Howe ;  the  straight  line,  formed  by  the  junction  of 
these  two  gentlemen,  was  to  possess  such  virtues, 
that  it  was  supposed  no  American  could  be  found 
hardy  enough  to  set  foot  over  it ! ! 

Accordingly,  July  23,  General  Howe  left  Sandy 
Hook ;  sailed  up  the  Chesapeake ;  landed  at  the 
mouth  of  Elk  River ;  and  with  but  little  interruption, 
except  at  Brandywine,  marched  on  to  Philadelphia. 
Into  that  elegant  city,  on  the  26th  of  September, 
1777,  he  entered  in  triumph;  fondly  supposing,  that, 
in  America,  as  in  Europe,  the  capture  of  the  city 
was  equivalent  to  the  reduction  of  the  country.  But 
instead  of  finding  himself  master  of  this  great  conti- 
nent, whose  rattle-snakes  alone  in  the  hand  of 
heaven,  could  scourge  his  presumption  ;  it  was  with 
no  small  difficulty  he  could  keep  possession  of  the 
little  village  of  Germantown.  For,  on  the  morning 
of  the  4th  of  October,  Washington  made  an  attack 
on  him  with  such  judgment  and  fury,  that  his  troops 
gave  way  in  every  quarter.  "The  tumult,  disorder 
and  despair  in  the  British  army,"  says  Washington, 
"  were  unparalleled."  But  in  the  very  moment  01 
the  most  decisive  and  glorious  victory,  when  some 
of  the  provincial  regiments  had  more  prisoners  than 
men,  the  Americans,  through  the  mistake  of  an 
officer,  who  had  drank  too  freely,  began  to  retreat  '* 


100  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Washington's  grief  and    mortification   were   mex 
pressible. 

But  while  he  was  annoying  the  enemy  ty  land,  he 
did  not  lose  sight  of  their  fleet,  which  was  now  forc- 
ing its  way  up  the  Delaware,  to  keep  open  to  the 
army  a  channel  of  supplies.  They  arrived,  without 
molestation,  within  8  miles  of  Philadelphia,  at  a 
marsh  called  Mud-Island.  On  this  poor  harmless 
spot,  the  fittest,  however,  that  nature  in  this  peaceful 
land  of  Friends  could  furnish,  Washington  ordered  a 
fort  to  be  thrown  up,  the  command  of  which,  with 
230  men,  he  assigned  to  lieutenant-colonel  Samuel 
Smith.  On  the  eastern  or  Jersey  side  of  the  river,  at 
a  place  called  Red-Bank,  he  ordered  a  strong  redoubt, 
the  command  of  which,  with  250  men,  was  given  to 
Colonel  Greene.  These,  with  some  chevaux-de-frise 
sunk  in  the  river,  and  a  few  gallies,  formed  all  the 
barrier  that  Washington  could  present  against  the 
British  navy.  The  strength  of  this  barrier  was  soon 
put  to  a  fiery  trial.  Great  preparations  were  made 
to  attack  the  Americans,  at  the  same  instant,  both  by 
land  and  water.  Count  Donop,  with  a  host  of  Hes- 
sians, was  sent  over  to  be  in  readiness  to  attack  Red- 
Bank,  while  the  flood-tide,  groaning  under  the  enor- 
mous weight,  brought  up  the  men  of  war.  The 
morning  was  still,  and  the  heavens  overcast  with  sad 
clouds,  as  of  nature  sympathizing  with  her  children, 
and  ready  to  drop  showers  of  celestial  pity  on  their 
strifes.  No  sooner  had  the  ships  floated  up  within 
three  cables  length  of  the  fort,  than  they  began  a  most 
tremendous  cannonade :  while  cannon-balls  and  fire- 
tailed  bombs,  like  comets,  fell  upon  it  thick  as  hail. 
The  gallant  Smith  and  his  myrmidons  stood  the  shock 
to  a  miracle  :  and,  like  men  fighting  under  the  eye  of 
their  Washington,  drove  two-and-thirty  pounders 
through  them  with  such  spirit  and  success,  that  in  a 
little  time,  the  Augusta,  a  heavy  64  gun  ship,  took 
fire,  anH  blew  up,  the  horrible  balloon  of  many  of  the 
crew.  Another  ship  called  the  Merlh  ,  or  Black-Bird, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  101 

soon  got  on  the  wing,  blew  up  likewise,  and  went  off 
in  thunder  to  join  the  Augusta. 

At  the  same  moment  Col.  Donop,  with  his  Hes 
sians,  made  a  gallant  attack  on  the  fort  at  Red-Bank 
After  a  few  well-directed  fires,  Greene  and  his  men 
artfully  retired  from  the  out-works.  The  enemy  now 
supposing  the  day  their  own,  rushed  on  in  vast  num- 
bers along  a  large  opening  in  the  fort,  and  within 
twenty  steps  of  a  masked  battery,  of  18  pounders, 
loaded  with  grape-shot  and  spike-nails.  All  at  once 
Erebus  seemed  to  open  before  their  affrighted  view. 
But  their  pains  and  their  terrors  were  but  for  a  mo- 
ment. Together  down  they  sunk  by  hundreds,  into 
the  sweet  slumbers  of  death,  scarcely  sensible  of  the 
fatal  blow  that  reft  their  lives 

Heaps  on  neaps  the  slaughter'd  Hessians  lie  : 
Brave  Greene  beholds  them  with  a  tearful  eye. 
Far  now  from  home,  and  from  their  native  shore, 
They  sleep  in  death,  and  hear  of  wars  no  more. 

Poor  Donop  was  mortally  wounded,  and  taken 
prisoner.  The  attentions  of  the  American  officers, 
and  particularly  the  kind  condolence  of  the  godlike 
Washington,  quite  overcame  him  ;  and  his  last  mo- 
ments were  steeped  in  tears  of  regret,  for  having  left 
his  native  land  to  fight  a  distant  people  who  had 
never  injured  him. 

On  hearing  of  his  misfortune,  Washington  sent  an 
officer  to  condole  with  him.  The  officer  was  con- 
ducted to  his  apartment ;  and  delivered  the  message. 
The  wounded  count  appeared  much  affected — a  tear 
swelled  in  his  eye  :  and  he  said  to  the  officer,  "  Pre- 
sent to  General  Washington  the  thanks  of  an  unfor- 
tunate brother  soldier :  tell  him  I  expect  to  rise  no 
•more,  but  if  I  should,  the  first  exertion  of  my  strength 
shall  be,  to  return  to  him  my  thanks  in  person.'*  The 
officer  sent  was  Colonel  Daniel  Clymer,  of  Berks, 
Pennsylvania.  "  See  here,  Colonel,"  said  the  dying 
count,  "  see  in  me  the  vanity  of  all  human  pride  !  1 
9* 


102  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

have  ^none  in  all  the  courts  of  Europe ;  and  now  I 
am  dying  Lere,  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware,  in  the 
house  of  an  obscure  Quaker  I" 

After  six  weeks  of  infinite  fatigue,  with  great  loss 
of  men  and  money,  the  British  forced  a  passage  large 
enough  for  their  provision  ships  to  Philadelphia, 
where  General  Howe  and  his  officers  held  their  balls 
this  winter;  while  16  miles  distant,  the  great  Wash- 
ington, well  pleased  with  his  campaign,  retired  to 
winter  quarters  at  Valley  Forge. 

While  such  ill  success  attended  this  part  of  the 
ministerial  plan,  viz.  to  choke  the  colonies  by  a  mili- 
tary noose,  so  tightly  drawn  from  Chesapeake  to 
Champlain,  as  to  stop  all  circulation  between  the 
northern  and  southern  states ;  a  worse  fate  frowned 
on  their  attempt  in  the  north.  General  Burgoyne, 
with  10,000  veterans,  besides  a  host  of  Canadians 
and  Indians,  issuing  forth  from  Canada  in  June  1777, 
came  pouring  along  down  the  lakes  like  the  thunder- 
ing Niagara,  with  an  impetuosity  that  swept  every 
thing  before  it.  The  hatchets  of  the  Indians  were 
drunk  with  American  blood.  No  age,  no  sex,  could 
soften  them.  "The  widow's  wail, the  virgin's  shriek 
and  trembling  infant's  cry,"  were  music  in  their  ears. 
In  cold  blood  they  struck  their  cruel  tomahawks  into 
the  defenceless  heart  of  a  Miss  M'Rea,  a  beautiful 
girl,  who  was  that  very  day  to  have  been  married ! 
Such  acts  of  inhumanity  called  forth  the  fiercest 
indignation  of  the  Americans,  and  inspired  that  des- 
perate resolution  of  which  the  human  heart  is  capa- 
ble, but  which  no  human  force  can  conquer.  The 
New  Englanders,  who  were  nearest  to  these  infernal 
scenes,  turned  out  en  masse.  Washington  hurried 
on  Gates  and  Arnold  with  their  furious  legions  ;  and 
to  these  he  joined  the  immortal  Morgan  with  his 
dreadful  phalanx,  1000  riflemen,  whose  triggers  were 
never  touched  in  vain,  but  could  throw  a  ball  a 
nundred  yards  at  a  squirrel's  head,  and  never  miss 

The  first  check  given  to  Burgoyne's  career,  was  at 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  103 

Bennington.  Hearing  that  the  Americans  had  laid  up 
large  provisions  in  that  town,  he  detached  a  Colonel 
Baum,  with  600  Germans,  to  surprise  it:  and, at  the 
same  time,  posted  Colonel  Breyman  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, with  an  equal  number  to  support  him  i* 
necessary.  Finding  the  place  too  well  guarded  either 
for  surprise  or  storm,  Baum  fortified  himself  at  a  lit- 
tle distance,  and  sent  back  for  Breyman.  The  Ame- 
rican commander,  the  brave  General  Starke,  sallied 
out,  and  with  great  fury  attacked  Baum's  intrench  • 
ments  without  giving  him  time  to  receive  his  rein- 
forcements. At  the  first  onset,  the  Canadians  and 
British  marksmen  took  to  their  heels,  and  left  the 
poor  Germans  in  the  lurch.  After  a  gallant  resist- 
ance, Baum  was  mortally  wounded,  and  his  brave 
countrymen  killed  or  taken  to  a  man.  In  the  mean- 
time Breyman,  totally  ignorant  of  their  catastrophe, 
arrived  at  the  place  of  action,  where,  instead  of  the 
cheering  huzzas  of  joyful  friends,  he  was  saluted,  on 
all  hands,  with  the  deadly  whizzing  of  rifle  bullets. 
After  receiving  a  few  close  and  scorching  fires,  the 
Germans  hastily  betook  themselves  to  flight.  The 
neighbouring  woods,  with  night's  sable  curtains,  en- 
abled the  fugitives  to  save  themselves  for  that  time  at 
least.  The  enemy  lost  in  these  two  engagements,  not 
less  than  1000  men,  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners. 

About  the  same  time  all  their  forts  on  the  lakes 
were  surprised.  Colonel  St.  Leger  was  defeated  at 
Fort-Stanwix  ;  the  Indians  began  to  desert ;  Arnold 
and  Morgan  were  coming  up  like  mountain-storms  : 
and  the  militia  from  all  quarters  were  pouring  in. 
Burgoyne  began  to  be  alarmed,  and  wrote  to  New 
York  for  aid ;  but  finding  that  Clinton  could  give  him 
none,  and  that  the  salvation  of  his  army  depended  on 
themselves,  he  gallantly  determined,  on  the  7th  of 
October,  1777,  to  stake  his  all  on  the  issue  of  a  gen- 
eral battle. 

His  army,  in  high  spirits,  was  formed  within  a  mile 
of  the  American  camp.  Burgoyne,  with  the  flower 


104  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

of  the  British  troops,  composed  the  centre.  Bnga 
dier-general  Frazer  commanded  the  left.  The  Ger- 
mans, headed  by  major-generals  Philips  and  Reides- 
del,  and  col.  Breyman  formed  the  right.  With  a  fine 
train  of  artillery,  flying  colours,  and  full  roll  of  mar- 
tial music,  from  wing  to  wins;  the  towering  heroes 
moved.  On  the  other  hand,  fired  with  the  love  of 
liberty,  the  Americans  poured  out  by  thousands, 
eager  for  the  glorious  contest.  Their  dear  country's 
flag  waves  over  their  heads.  The  thoughts  of  the 
warriors  are  on  their  children,  and  on  the  chains  now 
forging  for  their  tender  hands.  The  avenging  pas- 
sions rise,  and  the  battle  moves.  Morgan  brought  on 
the  action.  In  a  .large  buckwheat  field,  which  lay 
between  the  two  armies,  he  had  concealed  his  famous 
regiment  of  riflemen.  The  enemies,  chiefly  Cana 
dians  and  Indians,  unsuspiciously  advance.  They 
were  suffered  to  come  within  point  blank  shot,  when 
they  received  a  general  fire,  which  strewed  the  field 
with  their  dead  bodies.  Morgan  pursued  ;  but  was 
soon  met  by  a  heavy  reinforcement  from  the  British, 
vho  quickly  drove  him,  in  turn.  Arnold  then  moved 
on  to  support  Morgan ;  and,  in  a  short  time,  with 
nine  heavy  regiments  was  closely  engaged  with  the 
whole  of  the  British  army,  both  parties  fighting  as  if 
each  was  determined  never  to  yield :  while  the  in- 
cessant crash  of  muskets  and  roar  of  artillery  appear- 
ed both  to  sight  and  sound  as  if  two  wrathful  clouds 
had  come  down  on  the  plain,  rushing  together,  in 
hideous  battle,  with  all  their  thunders  and  lightnings. 
The  weight,  however,  of  the  American  fire  was 
directed  against  the  enemy's  centre,  extending  along 
the  left  wing  :  and  though  it  was  some  time  sustained 
with  the  greatest  firmness,  yet  at  length  it  prevailed, 
and  threw  the  British  into  confusion.  Butthe  gallant 
Frazer  flying  to  their  assistance,  soon  restored  their 
order  and  renewed  the  fight.  Severely  galled  still 
by  Morgan's  rifles  on  the  flanks,  and  hard  pressed  at 
the  same  time,  in  front  by  Arnold,  they  gave  way  a 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  105 

second  time  ;  and  a  second  time  Frazer's  presence 
revived  their  valour,  and  rekindled  the  battle  in  all 
its  rage. 

Here  Arnold  did  an  act  unworthy  of  the  glory  of 
the  well  fought  battle.  He  ordered  up  twelve  of  his 
best  riflemen,  and  pointing  to  Frazer,  who  on  horse- 
back, with  brandished  sword,  was  gallantly  animat- 
ing his  men,  he  said  :  "  Mark  that  officer  ! — Himself 
is  a  host  ;  let  me  not  see  him  long." 

The  riflemen  flew  to  their  places,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  hero  was  cut  down.  With  him  fell  the 
courage  of  the  left  wing,  who,  being  now  fiercely 
charged,  gave  way,  and  retreated  to  their  camp.  But 
scarcely  had  they  entered  it,  when  the  Americans, 
with  Arnold  at  their  head,  stormed  it  with  inconceiv- 
able fury;  rushing  with  trailed  arms  through  a  heavy 
discharge  of  musketry  and  grape  shot.  The  British 
fought  with  equal  desperation.  For  their  all  was  at 
stake ;  the  Americans,  like  a  whelming  flood,  were 
bursting  over  their  intrenchments  ;  and,  hand  to  hand, 
with  arguments  of  bloody  steel,  were  pleading  the 
cause  of  ages  yet  unborn.  Hoarse  asa  mastiff  of  true 
British  breed,  Lord  Balcarras  was  heard  from  rank  to 
rank,  loud-animating  his  troops;  while  on  the  other 
hand,  fierce  as  the  hungry  tiger  of  Bengal,  the  im- 
petuous Arnold  precipitated  his  heroes  on  the  stubborn 
foe.  High  in  air,  the  encountering  banners  blazed; 
there  bold  waving  the  lion-painted  standard  of  Bri- 
tain ;  here  the  streaming  pride  of  Columbia's  lovely 
stripes — while  thick  below,  ten  thousand  eager  war- 
riors close  the  darkening  files,  all  bristled  with  venge- 
ful steel.  No  firing  is  heard.  But  shrill  and  terrible, 
from  rank  to  rank,  resounds  the  clash  of  bayonets — 
frequent  and  sad  the  groans  of  the  dying.  Pairs  on 
pairs,  Britons  and  Americans,  with  each  his  bayonet 
in  his  brother's  breast,  fall  forward  .together  faint- 
shn&kmg  in  death,  and  mingle  their  smoking  blood. 

Many  were  the  widows,  many  the  orphans  that 
were  made  that  day.  Long  did  the  daughters  of 


106  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Colnmb.a  mourn  their  fallen  brothers!  and  often  did 
the  lovely  maids  of  Caledonia  roll  their  soft  blue  eyes 
of  sorrow  along  the  sky-bound  sea,  to  meet  the  sails 
of  their  returning  lovers. 

But  alas  !  their  lovers  shall  return  no  more.  Far 
distant,  on  the  banks  of  the  roaring  Hudson  they  lie/ 
pale  and  helpless  on  the  fields  of  death.  Glassy  now 
and  dim  are  those  eyes  which  once  "  beamed  with 
friendship,  or  which  flamed  in  war."  Their  last 
thoughts  are  towards  the  maids  of  their  love :  and 
the  big  tears  glisten  in  their  eye,  as  they  heave  the 
parting  groan. 

Then  was  seen  the  faded  form  of  Ocean's  Queen, 
far-famed  Britannia,  sitting  alone  and  tearful  on  hei 
western  cliff.  With  downcast  look  her  faithful  lion 
lay  roaring  at  her  feet ;  while  torn  and  scattered  on 
the  rock  were  seen  her  many  trophies  of  ancient 
fame.  Silent,  in  dishevelled  locks,  the  goddess  sat, 
absorbed  in  grief,  when  the  gale  of  the  west  came 
blackening  along  the  wave,  laden  with  the  roar  of 
murderous  battle.  At  once  she  rose — a  livid  horror 
bespread  her  cheeks — distraction  glared  on  her  eye- 
balls, hard  strained  towards  the  place  whence  came 
the  groans  of  her  children !  the  groans  of  her  children 
fast  sinking  in  a  distant  land.  Thrice  she  essayed  to 
curse  the  destroyers  of  her  race.  But  thrice  she 
remembered,  that  they  too  were  her  sons.  Then, 
wild  shrieking  with  a  mother's  anguish,  she  rent  the 
air  with  her  cries :  and  the  hated  name  of  North 
resounded  through  all  her  caves. 

But  still  in  all  its  rage  the  battle  burned :  and  both 
parties  fought  with  an  obstinacy,  never  exceeded. 
But,  in  that  moment  of  danger  and  of  glory,  the 
impetuous  Arnold,  who  led  the  Americans,  was 
dangerously  wounded,  and  forced  to  retire ;  and 
several  regiments  of  British  infantry  pouring  in  to 
the  assistance  of  their  gallant  comrades,  the  Ameri- 
cans, after  many  hard  struggles,  wera  finally  re- 
pulsed. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  107 

In  another  quarter,  where  the  strength  of  the 
Germans  fought,  the  Americans,  led  on  by  Morgan, 
carried  the  intrenchments  sword  in  hand.  The  face 
of  Morgan  was  like  the  full  moon  in  a  stormy  night, 
when  she  looks  down  red  and  fiery  on  the  raging 
deep,  amidst  foundering  wrecks  and  cries  of  drown- 
ing seamen ;  while  his  voice,  like  thunder  on  the 
hills,  was  heard,  loud-shouting  his  heroes  to  the 
bloody  charge.  The  tall  regiments  of  Hesse  Cassei 
fell  or  fled  before  them ;  leaving  their  baggage,  tents 
and  artillery,  in  the  hands  of  the  victors. 

This  was  a  bloody  day  to  both  armies :  but  so 
peculiarly  disheartening  to  the  British,  that  they  were 
obliged  to  retreat  that  night  to  Saratoga,  where,  in  a 
few  days,  (on  the  13th  of  October,  1777,)  they 
surrendered  to  the  Americans,  under  Gates,  by  whom 
they  were  treated  with  a  generosity  that  astonished 
them.  For,  when  the  British  were  marched  out  to 
lay  down  their  arms,  there  was  not  an  American  to 
be  seen  !  They  had  all  nobly  retired  for  a  moment, 
as  if  unwilling  to  give  the  pain,  even  to  theii 
enemies,  of  being  spectators  of  so  humiliating  a 
scene  !  Worthy  countrymen  of  Washington  !  this 
deed  of  yours  shall  outlive  the  stars,  and  the  blest 
sun  himself,  smiling,  shall  proclaim,  that  in  the  wide 
travel  of  his  beams,  he  never  looked  upon  its  like 
before. 

Thus,  gloriously  for  America,  ended  the  campaign 
of  '77.  That  of  '78  began  as  auspiciously.  In  May, 
Silas  Deane  arrived  from  France,  with  the  welcome 
news  of  a  treaty  with  that  powerful  people,  and  a 
letter  from  Louis  XVI.  to  Congress,  whom  he  styled 
— very  dear  great  friends  and  allies. 

Soon  as  it  was  known  by  the  British  ambassador 
at  Paris,  Lord  Stormont,  that  the  king  of  France  had 
taken  part  with  the  Americans,  he  waited  on  the 
French  minister,  De  Vergennes;  and  with  g-^at 
agitation  mentioned  the  report,  asking  if  it  wen. 
possible  it  could  be  true 


108  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

"  Very  possible,  my  Lord,"  replied  the  smooth 
Frenchman. 

"  Well,  I'm  astonished  at  it,  sir,"  continued  Stor- 
mont,  exceedingly  mortified.  "  America,  sir,  is  our 
daughter !  and  it  was  extremely  indelicate  of  the 
French  king  thus  to  decoy  her  from  our  embraces, 
and  make  a  w — e  of  her  !" 

"  Why  as  to  that  matter,  my  Lord,"  quoth  Ver- 
gennes,  with  the  true  Gallic  shrug,  "there  is  no  great 
harm  done.  For  the  king  of  France  is  very  willing 
to  marry  your  daughter,  and  make  an  honest  woman 
of  her. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Lord  North,  coming  to  his  senses,  sends  commissioners  to  America  - 
Clinton  evacuates  Philadelphia — Washington  pursues  him — battle 
of  M on  mouth — Arnold's  apostacy — Andre  apprehended— executed 
— his  character 

THE  news  of  the  total  loss  of  Burgoyne  and  his 
army  soon  reached  Parliament,  where  it  produced  a 
consternation  never  before  known  in  that  house. 
The  Ministry,  utterly  confounded,  could  not  open 
their  lips;  while  the  Whig  minority,  with  great 
severity,  lashed  their  obstinacy  and  ignorance. 
Lord  North,  beginning  now  to  find,  as  the  great 
Chatham  had  foretold,  that  "three  millions  of  Whigs, 
with  arms  in  their  hands,  were  not  to  be  enslaved," 
became  very  anxious  to  conciliate  !  Commissioners 
were  sent  over  with  offers  to  repeal  the  abnoxious 
taxes !  and  also  with  promises  of  great  favours 
which  Lord  North  would  confer  on  America,  if  she 
would  settle  the  dispute  witli  the  mother  country. 
The  better  to  dispose  her  towards  these  offers,  elegant 
presents  were  to  be  made  to  her  best  friends,  (such 
as  Washington,  the  President  of  Congress,  &c.  &c.,) 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  109 

to  speak  a  good  word  for  Lord  North's  favours ' ' 
But,  observe,  Independence  was  to  be  out  of  tht 
question. 

Doctor  Franklin  used  laughingly  to  say,  that  "Lord 
North  and  his  great  favours,  put  him  in  mind  of  an 
old  bawd,  and  her  attempts  upon  a  young  virgin,  to 
whom  she  promised  every  thing  but  Innocence. 
While  in  robbing  her  of  innocence,  the  old  hag  knew 
well  enough  that  she  was  robbing  the  poor  girl  ot 
that  without  which  she  would  soon,  in  spite  of  her 
fine  gowns  and  necklaces,  become  a  miserable  out- 
cast and  slave." 

Finding  that  Lord  North,  in  the  multitude  of  his 
favours,  had  entirely  forgotten  the  only  one  which 
they  valued,  i.  e.  the  Independence  of  their  country, 
the  committee  of  Congress  broke  off  all  farther  con 
verse  with  the  ministerial  commissioners,  who  pro- 
ceeded immediately  to  try  the  efficacy  of  their 
presents.  To  Washington,  'tis  said,  a  viceroyship, 
with  tons  of  gold,  was  to  have  been  tendered.  But, 
to  the  honour  of  the  commissioners  be  it  said,  not 
one  of  their  number  was  graceless  enough  to  breathe 
the  polluted  wish  into  his  ear.  They  had,  however, 
the  hardihood  to  throw  out  a  bait  of  10,000  guineas 
to  the  President  of  Congress,  Gen.  Reed.  His 
answer  is  worthy  of  lasting  remuiibrance.  "Gentle- 
men," said  he,  "  I  am  poor,  very  poor.  But  youi 
king  is  not  rich  enough  to  buy  me !" 

On  the  18th  of  June,  the  British  army,  now  under 
the  command  of  Clinton,  evacuated  Philadelphia  for 
New  Yoik.  The  figure  they  made  on  the  road  had 
something  of  the  air  of  the  sublime  ;  for  their  bag- 
gage, loaded  horses,  and  carriages,  formed  a  line  not 
less  than  twelve  miles  in  length.  General  Washing- 
ton, whose  eye,  like  that  of  the  sacred  dragon,  was 
always  open,  and  fixed  upon  the  enemies  of  America, 
immediately  crossed  the  Delaware  after  them— 
pushed  on  detached  corps  to  obstruct  their  advance 
— gall  their  flanks — and  fall  on  their  rear,  while  he 

10  9* 


110  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

himself  moved  on  with  the  main  body  of  the  army, 
By  the  27th,  Clinton  had  advanced  as  far  as  Mon- 
mouth  :  and  Washington's  troops  were  close  on  his 
flank  and  rear.  Next  morning  Gen.  Lee,  with  5000 
men,  was  ordered  to  begin  the  attack ;  Washington 
moving  on  briskly  to  support  him.  But,  as  he 
advanced,  to  his  infinite  astonishment  he  met  Lee 
retreating,  and  the  enemy  pursuing.  "  For  God's 
sake,  General  Lee,"  said  Washington  with  great 
warmth,  "  what's  the  cause  of  this  ill-tim'd  pru- 
dence ?" 

"  No  man,  sir,"  replied  Lee,  quite  convulsed  with 
rage,  "  can  boast  a  larger  portion  of  that  rascally 
virtue  than  your  Excellency  !  !" 

Dashing  along  by  the  madman,  Washington  rode 
up  to  his  troops,  who,  at  sight  of  him,  rent  the  air 
with  "  God  save  great  Washington  !" 

"  My  brave  fellows,"  said  he,  "  can  you  fight  ?" 

They  answered  with  three  cheers  !  «  Then  face 
about,  my  heroes,  and  charge." — This  order  was 
executed  with  infinite  spirit.  The  enemy,  finding 
themselves  now  warmly  opposed  in  front,  made  an 
attempt  to  turn  his  left  flank ;  but  were  gallantly 
attacked  and  driven  back.  They  then  made  a  rapid 
push  to  the  right :  but  the  brave  Greene,  with  a 
choice  body  of  troops  and  artillery,  repulsed  them 
with  considerable  slaughter.  At  the  same  instant, 
Wayne  advanced  with  his  legion  ;  and  poured  in  so 
severe  and  well  directed  a  fire,  that  the  enemy  were 
glad  to  regain  their  defiles.  Morgan's  rifles  distin- 
guished themselves  that  day.  Washington  and  his 
heroes  lay  upon  their  arms  all  night,  resolved  to  fall 
on  the  enemy  the  moment  they  should  attempt  their 
retreat  next  morning.  But  during  the  night,  they 
moved  off  in  silence;  and  got  such  a  start,  that 
Washington  thought  it  dangerous,  in  such  hot 
weather,  to  make  a  push  after  them.  The  Ameri- 
cans lost  58  killed — 140  wounded.  The  British  had 
249  killed, and  the  wounded  in  proportion.  Numbers, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  11  • 

on  both  sides,  died  of  the  extreme  heat,  and  by  drink 
ing  cold  water. 

In  September  1780,  an  attempt  was  made  to  take 
off  our  Washington,  and  by  means  which  I  can  hard- 
ly believe  the  old  British"  lion  was  ever  well  pleased 
with. 

I  allude  to  the  affair  of  Arnold's  treason.  That 
which  makes  rogues  of  thousands,  I  mean  Extrava- 
gance, was  the  ruin  of  this  great,  soldier.  Though 
extremely  brave,  he  was  of  that  vulgar  sort,  who 
having  no  taste  for  the  pleasures  of  the  mind,  think 
of  nothing  but  high  living,  dress,  and  show.  To  rent 
large  houses  in  Philadelphia — to  entertain  French 
Ambassadors — to  give  balls  and  concerts,  and  grand 
dinners  and  suppers — required  more  money  than  he 
could  honestly  command.  And,  alas !  such  is  the 
stuff  whereof  spendthrifts  are  made,  that  to  fatten 
his  Prodigality,  Arnold  consented  to  starve  his  Ho- 
nesty: and  provided  he  might  but  figure  as  a  gorge- 
ous Governor,  he  was  content  to  retail,  by  the  billet 
and  the  gill,  wood  and  rum  unfairly  drawn  from  the 
commissary's  store ! 

Colonel  Melcher,  the  barrack  master,  mentioned 
the  matter  to  Congress,  who  desired  him  to  issue  to 
General  Arnold  no  more  than  his  proper  rations.  He 
had  scarcely  returned  home  when  Arnold's  servant 
appeared  with  an  order  for  another  large  supply  of 
Rum,  Hickory  wood,  &c.  &c. 

"  Inform  your  master,"  said  Melcher,  "  that  he 
can't  have  so  much." 

Arnold  immediately  came  down  ;  and  in  a  great 
passion  asked  Colonel  Melcher,  if  it  was  true  he  had 
protested  his  bill  ? 

"  Yes,  sir  !" 

"  And  how  durst  you  do  it  ?" 

"  By  order  of  Congress,  sir." 

At  this,  Arnold,  half  choked  with  rage,  replied, 

'<  D n   the   rascals !     I'll  remember  them  for  it. 

Sampson-like  I'll  shake  the  pillars  of  their  Liberty 
temple  about  their  ears. 


"2  LiFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

On  the  evacuation  of  Philadelphia  by  the  British, 
tfen.  Arnold  had  been  appointed  temporary  governor 
oi'  that  city,  where  he  behaved  like  a  desperado,  who 
hesitates  at  nothing  to  stop  the  deadly  leaks  of  his 
prodigality,and  to  keep  himself  from  sinking.  Among 
other  bold*  strokes,  he  seized  and  sold  large  quantities 
of  American  property,  pretending  it  was  British. 
Complaints  were  made  to  Congress,  who,  unwilling 
to  expose  the  man  who  had  fought  so  gallantly  for 
Liberty,  treated  him  with  great  gentleness :  and  for 
the  same  reason,  Washington,  after  a  mild  reproof, 
gave  him  the  command  of  West  Point,  with  a  large 
body  of  troops. 

The  history  of  Arnold's  embarrassments  and  his 
quarrel  with  his  countrymen,  soon  reached  New 
York.  The  British  commander,  well  knowing  the 
ticklish  situation  of  a  proud  man,  caught  on  the  horns 
of  poverty,  sends  up  major  Andre,  with  money  in  his 
pocket.  The  major,  by  means  yet  unknown  to  the 
public,  got  near  enough  to  Arnold  to  probe  him ;  and, 
alas !  found  him,  both  in  principle  and  purse,  hollow 
as  an  exhausted  receiver,  and  very  willing  to  be  filled 
up  with  English  guineas.  English  guineas,  to  the 
tune  of  ten  thousand,  with  the  rank  and  pay  of  Bri- 
gadier General,  are  offered  him :  and  Arnold  agrees, 
Oh  !  shocking  to  humanity  !  Arnold  agrees  to  sacri- 
fice Washington. 

The  outlines  of  the  project  were,  it  seems,  that 
Arnold  should  make  such  a  disposition  of  the  troops 
at  West  Point,  as  to  enable  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  so 
completely  to  surprise  them,  that  they  must  inevita- 
bly, either  lay  down  their  arms  or  be  cut  to  pieces — 
with  General  Washington  among  them  !  !  The  victo- 
rious British  were  then,  both  by  land  and  water,  to 
rush  upon  the  feeble  and  dispirited  residue  of  the 
American  army,  in  the  neighbourhood,  utterly  una- 
ble to  resist,  when  there  would  follow  such  a  slaugh- 
ter of  men,  and  such  a  sweeping  of  artillery,  ammu- 
nition, stores,  &.c.  &c.,  as  would  completely  break 


LIFE  OF  WASHlNt/ION  IIS 

down  the  spirit  of  the  nation,  and  reduce  them  to 
unconditional  submission  to  the  Ministry  ! 

To  be  certified  of  this  delightful  truth,  Andre, 
during  Washington's  absence  from  West  Point, 
comes  ashore  from  a  sloop  of  war,  with  a  surtout 
over  his  regimentals ;  spends  a  day  and  night  with 
Arnold ;  sees  with  his  own  eyes,  the  dear  train  laid, 
the  matches  lighted,  and  every  thing  in  readiness,  a 
few  nights  hence,  to  send  the  old  Virginia  farmer  and 
his  republic  to  destruction. 

Every  thing  being  settled  to  satisfaction,  Andre 
wishes  to  set  off  to  carry  the  glorious  news  to  Gen- 
eral Clinton.  But,  behold  !  by  a  fine  stroke  of  Provi- 
dential interference,  he  cannot  get  on  board  the  ship  ! ! 
Arnold  gives  him  a  horse  and  a  pass  to  go  to  New 
York  by  land.  Under  the  name  of  Anderson  he 
passes,  in  safety,  all  the  guards.  Now,  like  an  un- 
caged bird,  and  light  as  the  air  he  breathes,  he  sweeps 
along  the  road.  His  fame  brightens  before  him — 
stars  and  garters,  coaches  and  castles,  dance  before 
his  delighted  fancy — even  his  long-loved  reluctant 
Delia  (Miss  Seward)  is  all  his  own — she  joins  in  the 
nation's  gratitude — softly  she  rolls  her  eyes  of  love, 
and  brightening  in  all  her  beauty,  sinks  on  his  en- 
raptured breast !  In  the  midst  of  these,  too,  too 
happy  thoughts,  he  is  met  by  three  young  militia 
men.  Though  not  on  duty,  they  challenged  him. 
He  answers  by  the  name  of  Anderson;  shews  his 
pass  ;  and  bounds  away.  Here  the  guardian  genius 
of  Columbia  burst  into  tears — she  saw  the  fall  of  her 
hero,  and  her  country's  liberties  crushed  for  ever. 
Dry  thine  eyes,  blest  saint,  thy  Washington  is  not 
fallen  yet.  The  thick  bosses  of  Jehovah's  buckler 
are  before  the  chief:  and  the  shafts  of  his  enemies 
shall  yet  fall  to  the  earth,  accurst — For,  scarce  nad 
Andre  passed  the  young  militia-men,  before  one  of 
them  tells  his  comrades,  that  "  he  does  not  like  his 
looks;"  and  insists  that  he  shall  be  called  back,  and 
questioned  again.  His  answers  prove  him  a  spy 


U4  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

He  would  have  fled :  but  they  level  their  muskets 
Trembling  and  pale,  he  offers  them  an  elegant  gold- 
watch  to  let  him  go.  No !  He  presses  on  them  a 
purse  bloated  with  guineas.  No  !  He  promises  each 
of  them  a  handsome  pension  for  life — but  all  in  vain. 
The  power  that  guarded  Washington  was  wroth  with 
Andre.  On  searching  him  they  find  in  his  boot,  and 
in  Arnold's  own  hand-writing,  a  plan  of  the  whole 
conspiracy!  Sons  of  the  generous  soul,  why  should 
I  tell  how  major  Andre  died  !  The  place  where  his 
gallows  stood  is  overgrown  with  weeds — but  smiling 
angels  often  visit  the  spot ;  and  it  was  bathed  with 
the  tears  of  his  foes. 

His  candour,  on  his  examination,  in  some  sort  ex- 
piated his  crime.  It  melted  the  angel  soul  of  Wash- 
ington :  and  the  tears  of  the  hero  were  mingled  with 
the  ink  that  signed  the  death-warrant  of  the  hapless 
youth.  The  names  of  the  young  men  who  arrested 
poor  Andre,  were,  John  Paulding,  David  Williams, 
and  Isaac  Van  Vert.  They  were  at  cards  under  a 
large  poplar  that  grew  by  the  road,  where  the  major 
was  to  pass.  Congress  rewarded  them  with  silver 
medals;  and  settled  on  each  of  them  $200  annually, 
for  life. 

American  writers  have  recorded  a  thousand  hand- 
some things  of  unfortunate  Andre.  They  have  made 
him  scholar,  soldier,  gentleman,  poet,  painter,  musi- 
cian, and,  in  short,  every  thing  that  talents  and  taste 
can  make  a  man.  The  following  anecdote  will  show 
lhat  he  was  much  greater  still. 

Some  short  time  before  that  fatal  affair  which 
brought  him  to  his  end,  (said  my  informant,  Mr. 
Drewy,  a  painter,  now  living  at  Newbern,)  a  fora- 
ging  party  from  New- York  made  an  inroad  into  our 
settlement  near  that  city.  The  neighbours  soon  as- 
sembled to  oppose  them ;  and,  though  not  above  fit- 
teen  years  old,  I  turned  out  with  my  friends.  In  com- 
pany was  another  boy,  in  age  and  size  nearly  about 
my  own  speed.  We  had  counted  on  a  fine  chas« 


OAI'TUKK    OF    MA.TOK    ANDRE. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  117 

Hut  the  British  were  not  to  be  driven  so  easily  as  we 
had  expected.  Standing  their  ground,  they  not  only 
put  us  to  flight,  but  captured  several  of  our  party  ; 
myself  and  the  other  boy  among  them.  They  present- 
ly set  out  with  us  for  New-York :  and,  all  the  way,  as 
we  were  going,  my  heart  ached  to  think  how  my  poor 
mother  and  sisters  would  be  distressed  when  night 
came,  and  I  did  not  return.  Soon  as  they  brought  me 
in  sight  of  the  prison,  I  was  struck  with  horror.  The 
gloomy  walls,  and  frightful  guards  at  the  doors,  and 
wretched  crowds  at  the  iron  windows,  together  with 
the  thoughts  of  being  locked  up  there  in  dark  dun- 
geons with  disease  and  death,  so  overcame  me,  that 
I  bursted  into  tears.  Instantly  a  richly  dressed  offi- 
cer stepped  up,  and  taking  me  by  the  hand,  with  a 
»ook  of  great  tenderness,  said,  "  My  dear  boy  !  what 
makes  you  cry  ?"  I  told  him  I  could  not  help  it  when 
I  compared  my  present  sad  prospect  with  the  happy 
one  I  enjoyed  in  the  morning  with  rny  mother  and 
sisters  at  home.  "  Well,  well,  my  dear  child,  (said  he) 
don't  cry,  don't  cry  any  more."  Then  turning  to  the 
jailor  ordered  him  to  stop  till  he  should  come  back. 
Though  but  a  boy,  yet  I  was  deeply  struck  with  the 
wonderful  difference  betwixt  this  man  and  the  rest 
around  me.  He  appeared  to  me  like  a  brother ;  they 
like  brutes.  I  asked  the  jailor  who  he  was.  "  Why, 
that's  Major  Andre,  (said  he  angrily)  the  adjutant- 
general  of  the  army  ;  and  you  may  thank  your  stars 
that  he  saw  you  ;  for  I  suppose  he  is  gone  to  the  gene- 
ral to  beg  you  off,  as  he  has  done  many  of  your  d — d 
rebel  countrymen."  In  a  short  time  he  returned ;  and 
with  great  joy  in  his  countenance  called  out — "  Well, 
my  boys,  I've  good  news,  good  news  for  you  !  The 
general  has  given  you  to  me,  to  dispose  of  as  I  choose  ; 
and  now  you  are  at  liberty !  So  run  home  to  your 
fond  parents,  and  be  good  boys ;  mind  what  they  tell 
you:  say  your  prayers;  love  one  another;  and  God 
Almighty  will  bless  you." 

And  yet  Andre  perished,  on  a  gallows   while  Ar- 


118  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

nold,  after  living  to  old  age,  died  in  his  bed !  !  Snal\ 
we  hence  infer  with  Brutus,  that  "  Virtue  is  but  an 
empty  name  ?"  and  that  Andre  had  been  good  in 
vain  ?  God  forbid !  Goodness  and  happiness  are  twins. 
Heaven  hath  joined  them  together,  and  Hell  cannot 
put  them  asunder.  For  proof,  we  need  go  no  further 
than  to  Andre  himself — to  Andre  in  prison  !  Even  in 
that  last  and  gloomiest  scene  of  his  life,  we  see  the 
power  which  virtue  has  to  illuminate  the  dark,  to  en 
liven  the  sad,  and  to  raise  her  votaries  above  the  ter- 
rors of  death.  In  the  first  moment  of  his  capture, 
when  vulgar  minds  are  thinking  of  nothing  but  self- 
preservation,  he  is  thinking  of  nothing  but  duty  and 
generosity.  Regardless  of  himself,  he  is  only  anxious 
for  Arnold.  Having  by  letter  advised  that  wretched 
man  of  his  danger,  and  given  him  time  to  escape,  he 
then  gallantly  asserts  his  own  real  character ;  and 
avows  himself  "  the  Adjutant  General  of  the  British 
army." 

The  truth  is,  he  had  been  sent  by  Gen.  Clinton,  on 
a  dirty  piece  of  business  for  which  he  was  not  fit ; 
and  of  which  he  was  so  heartily  ashamed,  that  he  ap- 
pears to  have  been  willing  to  atone  for  it  with  his  life. 
Hence  to  the  questions  put  at  his  trial,  he  answered 
with  a  candour  which  at  once  surprised  and  melted 
the  Court  Martial — he  answered,  with  the  candour  of 
a  mind  which  feared  its  own  condemnation  more  than 
that  of  any  human  tribunal. — He  heard  his  sentence 
of  death  with  perfect  indifference ;  and  at  the  place 
of  execution  behaved  like  one  who  had  fulfilled  the 
high  duties  of  son,  brother,  and  man,  with  constant 
attention  to  a  happy  immortality.  Thus  giving  the 
friends  of  virtue  abundant  cause  to  exclaim : 

"  Far  more  true  peace  the  dying  Andre  felt, 
Than  Arnold  ever  knew  in  prosp'rous  guilt." 

He,  poor  wretch,  survived  !  but  only  to  live  a  life,  at 
dice  hated  and  despised — hated  by  the  British  Gene- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  119 

ral,whom  he  had  shown  capable  of  assassinating  the 
man  he  could  not  conquer — hated  by  the  British  army, 
whom  he  had  robbed  of  one  of  its  brightest  orna- 
ments— and  hated  by  the  officers,  who  could  not  bear 
to  see  what  they  called  "a  d — mn'd  trator,"not  only 
introduced  into  their  company,  but  placed  over  their 
heads  ?  In  short,  Arnold  was  an  eye-sore  to  every 
man  of  honour  in  England,  where  he  was  often  most 
grossly  insulted. 

Soon  after  his  flight  to  England  with  the  slender 
remains  of  the  British  army,  he  went  down  to  South- 
ampton, where  the  broken-hearted  Mother  and  Sis- 
ters of  the  unfortunate  Andre  lived.  And  so  little 
was  he  acquainted  with  the  human  heart,  that  he 
called  to  see  them  !  On  hearing  his  name  announced 
by  the  servant,  they  burst  into  tears ;  and  sent  him 
word,  that  "they  did  not  wish  to  see  him." 

The  moment  he  received  Major  Andre's  letter, 
the  terrified  Arnold  made  his  escape  to  New-York. 

British  historians  have  wondered  that  he  left  his 
wife  in  the  power  of  Washington.  But  Arnold  knew 
in  whom  he  trusted :  and  the  generous  man  behaved 
exactly  as  Arnold  had  foreseen ;  for  he  immediately 
sent  him  his  clothes  and  baggage  ;  and  wrote  a  polite 
letter  of  condolence  to  his  lady,  offering  her  a  convey- 
ance to  her  husband, or  to  her  friends  in  Pennsylvania. 

Washington  now  waged  the  war  with  various 
success.  On  the  one  hand,  his  hero  of  Saratoga 
(Gates)  was  defeated  with  great  loss,  at  Camden  ;  on 
the  other,  the  British  lost,  on  the  King's-Mountain, 
the  brave  Colonel  Ferguson,  with  all  his  army,  1,400 
men.  Colonel  Ferguson  and  his  men  were  supposed 
by  the  British,  the  most  exquisite  marksmen  alive. 
And  indeed  to  hear  their  bravadoes,  one  would 
suppose,  that  give  them  but  guns  of  a  proper  calibre, 
and  they  would  think  it  a  light  affair  to  snuff  the 
moon,  (,r  drive  the  centre  of  the  fixed  stars.  But  the 
American  Rifle-boys  soon  led  them  into  a  truer  way 

of  thinking.     For  in  a  few  rounds  they  pink'd  the 

10 


120  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

brave  Colonel,  and  put  3000  of  his  exquisite  maiks- 
men  asleep ;  which  struck  such  a  wholesome  panic 
into  the  survivors,  that  they  threw  down  their  arms, 
and  like  thrifty  gentlemen  called  out  right  lustily  for 
quarters. 

But  few  of  the  Americans  fell ;  but  among  these 
was  one,  whose  fame  "  Time  with  his  own  eternal 
lip  shall  sing."  I  mean  the  brave  Col.  Williams. 
He  it  was,  whose  burning  words  first  kindled  the 
young  farmers  at  their  ploughs,  and  led  them  to  the 
King's  Mountain,  to  measure  their  youthful  rifles 
with  Ferguson's  heroes.  On  receiving  the  ball 
which  opened  in  his  breast  the  crimson  sluice  of  life, 
he  was  borne  by  his  aids,  into  the  rear ;  where  he 
was  scarcely  laid  down,  fainting  with  loss  of  blood, 
before  a  voice  was  heard,  loud  exclaiming,  "Hurra! 
my  boys  !  the  day  is  our  own  !  the  day  is  our  own  ! 
they  are  crying  for  quarters  !"  Instantly  he  started 
as  from  the  incipient  sleep  of  death;  and,  opening  his 
heavy  eyes,  eagerly  called  out,  "  My  God  !  who  are 
crying  for  quarters  ?"  «  The  British  !  The  British  !" 
replied  the  powder-blackened  riflemen.  At  this,  one 
last  beam  of  joy  lighted  in  a  smile  on  his  dying  face: 
then  faintly  whispering,  God  be  praised !  he  bowed 
his  head  in  everlasting  peace. 

Joy  follow  thee,  my  brother,  to  his  blest  presence 
who  sent  thee,  a  pillar  of  fire,  to  blast  the  mad  efforts 
of  men  fighting  against  their  brethren!  On  earth  thy 
lame  shall  never  fail.  Children  yet  unborn  shall  lisp 
the  name  of  Williams.  Their  cherub  lips  shall  often 
talk  of  him  whose  patriot  eye  beheld  them,  afar  oft 
smiling  on  the  breast,  and  with  a  parent's  ardoir 
hasted  to  ward  from  their  guiltless  heads  the  cu  rses 
of  monarchy. 

After  the  defeat  of  Gales,  Washington  sent  on  his 
favourite  Greene  to  head  the  southern  army  aga;nst 
the  victorious  Cornwallis  and  Tarleton.  With 
Greene  he  joined  the  famous  Morgan,  whose  riflemen 
had  performed  such  signal  service  during  the  war 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  121 

To  draw  Comwallis's  attention  from  a  blow 
meditated  against  the  British  post  at  Ninety-Six 
breene  detached  Morgan  to  Paulet's  river,  near  the 
neighbourhood  of  Cormvallis  and  Tarleton  Imme- 
diately the  pride  of  Tarleton  rose.  He  begged  of 
his  friend,  lord  Rawdon,  to  obtain  for  him  the  per- 
mission of  the  commander  in  chief  to  go  and  attack 
Morgan.  "  By  heavens,  my  lord,"  said  he, "  I  could 
not  desire  a  finer  feather  in  my  cap  than  Col.  Morgan. 
Such  a  prisoner  would  make  my  fortune."  "  Ah, 
lien,"  replied  Rawdon  very  coolly,  "you  had  better 
let  the  old  wagoner  alone."  As  no  refusal  could 
satisfy,  permission  at  length  was  granted  him :  and 
he  instantly  set  out.  At  parting,  he  said  tc  ord 
Rawdon  with  a  smile,  "  My. lord,  if  you  will  be  so 
obliging  as  to  wait  dinner,  the  day  after  to-morrow, 
till  four  o'clock,  Col.  Morgan  shall  be  one  of  your 
lordship's  guests."  "  Very  well,  Ben,"  said  the 
other,  "we  shall  wait.  But  remember,  Morgan  was 
brought  up  under  Washington."  Tarleton  was 
followed  to  battle  by  about  1000  choice  infantry  and 
250  horse,  with  two  field  pieces.  To  oppose  this 
formidable  force,  Morgan  had  but  500  militia,  300 
regulars,  and  75  horse.  His  militia  were  but  militia. 
His  regulars  were  the  famous  Maryland  line  led  by 
Howard  ;  men  who  would  have  done  honour  to  the 
plains  of  Austerlitz.  The  intrepid  Desaix,  who  turned 
the  tide  of  war  in  the  bloody  strife  of  Marengo,  was 
only  equal  to  Washington,  Col.  of  the  horse.  Morgan 
had  no  wish  to  fight.  But  Tarleton  compelled  him  ; 
for  about  two  hours  before  day,  on  the  17th  of 
January,  1781,  some  of  Washington's  cavalry  came 
galloping  into  camp  with  news  that  the  British  were 
but  eight  miles  off,  and  would  be  up  by  day  break. 
Instantly  Morgan  called  a  council  of  war,  composed 
only  of  Howard,  Washington,  and  himself.  "  Well, 
gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  what's  to  be  done  ?  shall  we 
fight  or  fly  ?  shall  we  leave  our  friends  to  our 
enemies ;  and  burning  our  meal  and  bacon,  so  hardly 
11 


1*3  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

got,  turn  out  again  into  the  starving  woods  ;  or  shaii 
we  stand  by  both,  and  fight  like  men?" 

«  No  burning!  no  flying,"  replied  they,  "  but  let's 
utand,  and  fight  like  men?" 

"  Well  then,  my  brave  fellows,"  said  Morgan 
"  wake  up  the  troops,  and  prepare  for  action." 

The  ground,  on  which  this  very  memorable  battle 
was  fought,  was  an  open  pine  barren.  The  militia 
were  drawn  up  about  two  hundred  yards  in  front  of 
the  regulars,  and  the  horse  some  small  distance  in 
the  rear.  Just  after  day  break,  the  British  came  in 
sight ;  and  halting  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the 
militia,  began  to  prepare  for  battle.  The  sun  had 
just  risen,  as  the  enemy,  with  loud  shouts,  advanced 
to  the  charge.  The  militia,  hardly  waiting  to  give 
them  a  distant  fire,  broke  and  fled  for  their  horses, 
which  were  tied  at  some  distance  on  the  wings  of 
the  Maryland  line.  Tarleton's  cavalry  pushed  hard 
after  the  fugitives,  and,  coming  up  with  them  just  as 
they  had  reached  their  horses,  began  to  cut  them 
down.  Unable  to  bear  that  sight,  Col.  Washington, 
with  his  corps,  dashed  on  to  their  rescue.  As  if 
certain  of  victory,  Tarleton's  men  were  all  scattered 
in  the  chase  !  Washington's  heroes,  on  the  contrary, 
sensible  of  the  fearful  odds  against  them,  advanced 
close  and  compact  as  the  Spartan  phalanx.  Then 
sudden  and  terrible  the  charge  was  made !  Like  men 
fighting,  life  in  hand,  all  at  once  they  rose  high  on 
their  stirrups !  while  in  streams  of  lightning  their 
swords  came  down,  and  heads  and  arms,  and  caps, 
and  carcasses,  distained  with  spouting  gore,  rolled 
fearfully  all  around.  Mournfully  from  all  sides  the 
cries  of  the  wounded  were  heard,  and  the  hollow 
groans  of  the  dying. 

Agonizing  with  rage  and  grief,  Tarleton  beheld 
the  flight  of  his  boasted  victory,  and  the  slaughter  of 
his  bravest  troops.  He  flew  to  reanimate  them.  He 
encouraged — he  threatened — he  stormed  and  mved. 
But  all  in  vain  No  time  was  given  to  rally ;  for 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  123 

.Ike  the  heavy  ship  under  crowded  canvass,  bursting 
through  the  waves,  so  strong  and  resistless,  Wash- 
ington's squadron  went  on,  hewing  down  and  over- 
throwing every  thing  in  their  way.  Confounded  by 
such  a  fatal  charge,  the  British  cavalry  could  not 
support  it ;  but  broke  and  fled  in  the  utmost  precipi- 
tation ;  while,  bending  forward  over  their  horses, 
and  waving  their  blood-stained  swords,  the  loud- 
shouting  Americans  pursued.  The  woods  resounded 
with  the  noise  of  their  flight. 

As  when  a  mammoth  suddenly  dashes  in  among 
a  thousand  buffaloes,  feeding  at  large  on  the  vast 
plains  of  Missouri ;  all  at  once  the  inn'imerous  herd, 
with  wildly  rolling  eyes,  and  hideous  bellowings, 
oreak  forth  into  flight,  while,  close  at  their  heels,  the 
roaring  monster  follows.  Earth  trembles  as  they 
dy.  Such  was  the  noise  in  the  chase  of  Tarleton 
when  the  swords  of  Washington's  cavalry  pursued 
his  troops  from  the  famous  fields  of  the  Cowpens.  It 
was  like  a  peal  of  thunder,  loud  roaring  at  first,  but 
gradually  dying  on  the  ear  as  it  rolls  away  along  the 
distant  air. 

By  this  time  the  British  infantry  had  come  up : 
and,  having  crossed  a  little  valley,  just  as  they 
ascended  the  hill,  they  found  themselves  within 
twenty  steps  of  Howard  and  his  regulars,  who 
received  them  with  a  right  soldierly  welcome,  and, 
taking  good  aim,  poured  in  a  general  and  deadly 
fire.  A  slaughter  so  entirely  unexpected,  threw  the 
enemy  into  confusion.  Seeing  this  wonderful  change 
in  the  battle,  the  militia  recovered  their  spirits,  and 
began  to  form  on  the  right  of  the  regulars.  Morgan 
waving  his  sword,  instantly  rode  up  to  them,  and 
with  a  voice  of  thunder  roared  out,  "  Hurra !  my 
brave  fellows,  form,  form  !  Old  Morgan  was  never 
beat,  in  his  life — one  fire  more,  my  heroes,  and  the 
day  is  our  own !"  With  answering  shouts,  both 
regulars  and  militia  then  advanced  upon  the  enemy; 
and,  following  their  fire  with  the  bayonet,  instantly 


I  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

decided  the  conflict.  The  ground  was  covered  with 
the  dead.  The  tops  of  the  aged  pines  shook  witn 
the  ascending  ghosts.  With  feeble  cries  and  groans, 
at  once  they  rose,  like  flocks  of  snow-white  swans 
when  the  cold  blast  strikes  them  on  the  lakes  oi 
Canada,  and  sends  them  on  wide-spread  wings,  far 
to  the  south  to  seek  a  happier  clime. 

Washington  pursued  Tarleton  20  miles !  and, during 
the  race,  was  often  so  near  him,  that  he  could  easily 
have  killed  him  with  a  pistol  shot.  But  having 
strictly  forbidden  his  men  to  fire  a  pistol  that  day,  he 
could  not  resolve  to  break  his  own  orders.  How- 
ever, there  was  one  of  his  men  who  broke  them.  At 
one  time  Washington  was  30  or  40  yards  ahead  ot 
his  men.  Tarleton  observing  this,  suddenly  wheeled 
with  a  couple  of  his  dragoons  to  cut  him  off.  Wash- 
ington, with  more  courage  than  prudence,  perhaps, 
dashed  on,  and  rising  on  his  stirrups,  made  a  blow 
at  Tarleton,  with  such  force,  that  it  beat  down  his 
guard  and  mutilated  one  or  two  of  his  fingers.  In 
this  unprotected  state,  one  of  the  British  dragoons 
was  aiming  a  stroke  which  must  have  killed  him. 
But  the  good  genii,  who  guard  the  name  of  Wash- 
ington, prevailed  :  for  in  that  critical  moment  a  mere 
dwarf  of  a  Frenchman  rushed  up,  and  with  a  pistol 
ball  shivered  the  arm  of  the  Briton.  The  other 
dragoon  attempted  to  wheel  off;  but  was  cut  down. 
Tarleton  made  his  escape. 

Tarleton  was  brave,  but  not  generous.  He  could 
not  bear  to  hear  another's  praise.  When  some  ladies 
in  Charleston  were  speaking  very  handsomely  of 
Washington,  he  replied  with  a  scornful  air,  that,  "He 
would  be  very  glad  to  get  a  sight  of  Col.  Washington. 
He  had  heard  much  talk  of  him,"  he  said,  "  but  had 
never  seen  him  yet."  "  Why,  sir,"  rejoined  one  of 
the  ladies,  "  if  you  had  looked  behind  you  at  the 
battle  of  the  Cowpens,  you  might  easily  have  enjoy- 
ed that  pleasure." 

While  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Halifax, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  U5 

,  Tarleton  dined  in  a  large  company.  The 
elegant  and  witty  Mrs.  Wiley  Jones  happened  to  be 
of  the  party.  The  ladies,  who  were  chiefly  whigs, 
were  frequently  praising  the  brave  Col.  Washington. 
Tarleton  with  looks  considerably  angry,  replied, "  that 
he  was  very  much  surprised  that  the  Americans 
should  think  so  highly  of  Col.  Washington  ;  for,  from 
what  he  could  learn,  he  was  quite  an  illiterate  fellow 
and  could  hardly  write  his  own  name."  "  That  may 
be  very  true  (replied  Mrs.  Jones)  "  but  I  believe,  sir 
you  can  testify  that  he  "  knows  how  to  make  his 
mark."  Poor  Tarleton  looked  at  his  crippled  finger, 
and  bit  his  lips  with  rage. 

General  Washington  contin-ied  the  war  against 
the  British  till  1781 ;  when  Cornwailis  pushed  into 
Virginia,  and  fortified  himself  at  1'ork-Town.  But 
the  eye  of  Washington  was  upon  him  ;  and  with  an 
address,  which,  the  British  historians  say,  was  never 
equalled,  he  concerted  a  plan  that  ended  in  the  total 
destruction  of  Cornwailis.  He  artfully  wrote  letters 
to  Greene,  informing  him,  that,  "  in  order  to  relieve 
Virginia,  he  was  determined  immediately  to  attack 
New  York."  These  letters  were  so  disposed  as  to 
fall  into  the  right  hands.  Clinton  took  the  alarm. 
But  while  the  British  general  was  in  daily  expecta- 
tion of  a  visit  from  him,  Washington  and  his  army, 
were  now  across  the  Delaware,  with  full  stretch  to 
the  south,  darkening  the  day  with  their  clouds  of 
rolling  dust.  Cornwailis  saw  that  the  day  of  his  fall 
was  at  hand.  He  had  done  all  that  a  brave  (would 
to  God  we  could  add,  a  humane)  man  could  do  ;  but 
all  in  vain.  On  the  last  day  of  September,  Washing- 
ton sat  down  before  York,  with  100  pieces  of  heavy 
artillery.  On  the  7th  of  October  this  dreadful  train 
began  to  thunder  :  and  the  British  works  sunk  before 
them.  Lord  Cornwailis.  unwilling  to  expose  his 
army  to  the  destruction  of  a  general  assault,  agreed 
on  the  17th  to  surrender.  This  was  justly  considered 
-he  close  of  the  war  ;  which  having  been  begun  with 
II* 


186  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

supplication,  Washington  piously  ordered  to  be  finish 
ed  with  thanksgiving. 

In  the  siege  of  Yorktown,  the  behaviour  of  the 
Americans  was,  as  usual,  generous  and  noble.  The 
amiable  Col.  Scammel,  adjutant-general  of  the  Ame- 
rican army,  and  uncommonly  beloved  by  them,  was 
dangerously  wounded  and  taken  prisoner  by  some 
British  dragoons,  who  barbarously  trotted  him  on 
before  them,  three  miles,  into  town,  where  he  pre- 
sently died  of  fever  and  loss  of  blood.  Great  was 
the  mourning  for  Scammel.  In  a  few  nights  after, 
Washington  gave  orders  to  storm  two  of  the  enemy's 
redoubts,  which  were  carried  almost  in  an  instant. 
The  British  called  for  quarters :  A  voice  of  death 
was  heard, "  Remember  poor  Scammel !"— "  Remem- 
ber, gentlemen,  you  are  Americans  !"  was  rejoined 
by  the  commander :  and  instantly  the  points  of  the 
American  bayonets  were  thrown  up  towards  heaven! 

The  conduct  of  the  French  also,  was  such  as  to 
entitle  them  to  equal  praise. 

For  when  the  British  marched  out  to  lay  down 
their  arms,  the  French  officers  were  seen  to  shed 
tears.  They  condoled  with  the  British,  and  tendered 
them  their  purses  ! — Glorious  proof,  that  God  never 
intended  men  to  be,  as  some  wickedly  term  it,  natural 
enemies. 

On  hearing  in  Congress  the  fall  of  Cornwallis,  the 
door-keeper  swooned  with  joy — on  hearing  the  same 
news  announced  in  parliament,  lord  North  fell  back 
in  his  chair,  in  the  deepest  distress.  On  receipt  of 
the  glad  tidings,  Congress  broke  forth  into  songs  of 
praise  to  God :  Parliament  into  execrations  against 
their  Prime  Minister- — Congress  hastened  to  the 
temple  to  pay  their  vows  to  the  Most  High  ;  the 
Parliament  went  to  St.  James's  with  a  petition  to  the 
King  for  a  change  cf  men  and  measures.  The  King 
was  graciously  pleased  to  hear  the  voice  of  their 
prayer.  Men  and  measures  were  changed ;  and  a 
decree  was  passed  that  whoever  should  advise  war 


SURRENDER    OP    LORD    CORNWALLIS. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  13* 

and  a  farther  widening  of  the  breach  between  Britain 
and  America,  should  be  denounced  an  equal  enemy 
to  both.  Then  full  leafed  and  green  the  olive  branch 
of  peace  was  held  out  to  the  nations :  and  the  eyes  oi 
millions,  on  both  sides  of  the  water,  were  lifted  in 
transport  to  the  lovely  sign.  The  stern  features  ot 
war  were  relaxed ;  and  gladdening  smiles  began 
again  to  brighten  over  the  "  human  face  divine." 
But  Washington  beheld  the  lovely  sight  with  doubt. 
Long  accustomed  unerringly  to  predict  what  Britain 
would  do,  from  what  he  knew  she  had  power  to  do, 
he  had  nothing  to  hope,  but  every  thing  to  fear 
America,  without  money  or  credit ! — her  officers, 
without  a  dollar  in  their  pocket,  stroiling  about  camps 
in  long  beards  and  dirty  shirts — her  soldiers  often 
without  a  crust  in  their  knapsacks  or  a  dram  in  their 
canteens — and  her  citizens  every  where  sick  and  tired 
of  war !— Great  Britain, on  the  other  hand, every  where 
victorious  over  the  fleets  of  her  enemies — completely 
mistress  of  the  watery  world,  and  Judas-like,  bag- 
Dearer  of  its  commerce  and  cash !  with  such  resources, 
with  all  these  trumps  in  her  hands,  she  will  play 
quits,  and  make  a  drawn  game  of  it  ?  Impossible  ! 
but  if  she  should,  "  it  must  be  the  work  of  that  Provi- 
dence who  ruleth  in  the  armies  of  Heaven  and  earth, 
and  whose  hand  has  been  visibly  displayed  in  every 
step  of  our  progress  to  independence."  "  Nothing," 
continued  Washington,  "  can  remove  my  doubts  but 
an  order  from  the  ministry  to  remove  their  fleets  and 
armies." 

That  welcome  order,  at  length,  was  given  !  arid 
the  British  troops,  sprucely  powdered  and  perfumed, 
ui  eager  thousands  hied  on  board  their  ships. 

"  All  hands  unmoor  !"  the  stamping  boatswain  cried  : 
"  All  hands  unmoor  !"  the  joyous  crew  replied. 

Then  in  a  moment  they  all  fly  to  work.  Some 
seizing  the  ready  handspikes,  vault  high  upon  the 
windlasses  j  thence  coming  down  all  at  ouie  with  the 


130  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

hearty  Yo-heave-0,  they  shake  the  sounding  decKS, 
and  tear  from  their  dark  oozy  beds  the  ponderous 
anchors.  Others,  with  halyards  hard  strained  through 
the  creaking  blocks,  sway  aloft  the  wide-extended 
yards,  and  spread  their  canvas  to  the  gale,  which, 
with  increasing  freshness,  bears  the  broad- winged 
ships  in  foam  and  thunder  through  the  waves.  Great 
was  the  joy  of  the  multitude  ;  for  they  were  hasten- 
ing to  revisit  their  native  land,  and  to  meet  those 
eyes  of  love  which  create  a  heaven  in  a  virtuous 
breast.  But  the  souls  of  some  were  sad.  These  were 
the  reflecting  few,  whose  thoughts  were  on  the  better 
hopes  of  former  days  !  To  them,  the  flowing  bowl, 
the  lively  joke,  the  hearty  laugh  and  song,  gave  no 
delight;  nor  yet  the  blue  fields  of  ocean  brightly 
shining  round,  with  all  her  young  billows  wantoning 
before  the  playful  breeze.  Their  country  ruined,  and 
themselves  repulsed,  how  could  they  rejoice  !  Then 
slowly  retiring  from  the  noisy  crew,  by  themselves 
apart  they  sat  on  the  lofty  stern,  high  above  the 
burning  track  which  the  ships  left  behind  them  in 
their  rapid  flight.  There,  deep  in  thought,  they  sat 
with  eyes  sad  fixed  on  the  lessening  shores,  and  ru- 
minated even  to  melancholy.  The  dismal  war  returns 
upon  their  thoughts,  with  the  pleasant  days  of  '76, 
then  bright  with  hope,  but,  now,  alas  !  all  darkened 
in  despair.  "  'Twas  then,"  said  they,  "  we  first 
approached  these  coasts,  shaded  far  and  wide  with 
our  navies,  nodding  tall  and  stately  over  the  heaving 
surge.  From  their  crowded  decks  looked  forth 
myriads  of  blooming  warriors,  eagerly  gazing  on  the 
lovely  shores,  the  farms,  and  flocks,  and  domes,  fondly 
regarded  as  their  own,  with  all  the  beauteous  maids, 
the  easy  purchase  of  a  bloodless  strife  !  But  ah,  vain 
hope  !  Washington  met  us  in  his  strength.  His  peo- 
ple poured  around  him  as  the  brindled  sons  of  the 
desert  around  their  sire  when  he  lifts  his  terrible 
voice,  and  calls  them  from  their  dens,  to  aid  him  in 
war  against  the  mighty  rhinoceros.  The  battle  raged 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  131 

along  a  thousand  fields — a  thousand  streams  ran 
puiple  with  British  gore.  And  now  of  all  our  bloom- 
ing warriois,  alas  !  how  few  remain  !  Pierced  by  the 
fatal  rifle,  far  the  greater  part  now  press  their  bloody 
beds.  There,  each  on  his  couch  of  honour,  lie  those 
who  were  once  the  flower  of  our  host.  There  lies 
the  gallant  Frazer,  the  dauntless  Ferguson,  the  ac- 
complished Donop,  and  that  pride  of  youth,  the  gen- 
erous Andre,  with  thousands  equally  brave  and  good. 
But,  0  !  ye  dear  partners  of  this  cruel  strife,  though 
fallen,  ye  are  not  forgotten  !  Often,  with  tears  do  we 
see  you  still,  as  when  you  rejoiced  with  us  at  the 
feast,  or  fought  by  our  sides  in  battle.  But  vain  was 
all  our  valour.  God  fought  for  Washington.  Hence 
our  choicest  troops  are  fallen  before  him ;  and  we, 
the  sad  remains  of  war,  are  now  returning,  inglorious, 
to  our  native  shores.  Land  of  the  graves  of  Heroes, 
farewell !  Ghosts  of  the  noble  dead  !  chide  not  the 
steps  of  our  departure  !  ye  are  left :  but  it  is  in  the 
.and  of  brothers,  who  often  mourned  the  death  which 
vheir  valour  gave.  But  now  the  unnatural  strife  is 
past,  and  peace  returns.  And  0  !  with  peace  may 
that  spirit  return  which  once  warmed  the  hearts  of 
Americans  towards  their  British  brethren,  when  the 
sight  of  our  tall  ships  was  wont  to  spread  joy  along 
their  shores ;  and  when  the  planter,  viewing  his 
cotton-covered  fields,  rejoiced  that  he  was  preparing 
employment  and  bread  for  thousands  of  the  poor  ! !" 

The  hostile  fleets  and  armies  thus  withdrawn,  and 
the  Independence  of  his  country  acknowledged ; 
Washington  proceeded,  at  the  command  of  Congress, 
to  disband  the  army  !  To  this  event,  though  of  all 
others  the  dearest  to  his  heart,  he  had  ever  looked 
forward  with  trembling  anxiety.  Loving  his  soldiers 
as  his  children,  how  could  he  tell  them  the  painful 
truth  which  the  poverty  of  his  country  had  imposed 
on  him?  How  could  he  tell  them,  that  after  all  they 
had  done  and  suffered  with  him,  they  must  now 

ound  their  arms,  and  return  home,  many  of  them 


132  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

without  a  decent  suit  on  their  backs,  or  a  penny  in 
iheir  pockets  ? 

But  he  was  saved  the  pain  of  making  this  commu- 
nication ;  for  they  soon  received  it  from  another 
quarter,  and  with  circumstances  calculated  to  kindle 
the  fiercest  indignation  against  their  country.  Let- 
ters were  industriously  circulated  through  the  army, 
painting  in  the  strongest  colours,  their  unparalleled 
Bufferings,  and  the  ingratitude  of  Congress. 

"  Confiding  "in  her  honour,"  said  the  writer,  did 
you  not  cheerfully  enlist  in  the  service  of  your  coun- 
try, and  for  her  dear  sake  encounter  all  the  evils  of  a 
soldier's  life  ?  Have  you  not  beaten  the  ice-bound 
road  full  many  a  wintry  day,  without  a  shoe  to  your 
bleeding  feet ;  and  wasted  the  long  bitter  night,  with- 
out a  tent,  to  shelter  your  heads  from  the  pelting 
storm  ?  Have  you  not  borne  the  brunt  of  many  a 
bloody  fight,  and,  from  the  hands  of  hard  struggling 
foes,  torn  the  glorious  prize,  your  country's  indepen- 
dence? And  now  after  all — after  wasting  in  her 
service  the  flower  of  your  days — with  bodies  broken 
under  arms,  and  bones  with  the  pains  and  aches  of  a 
seven  year's  war,  will  you  suffer  yourselves  to  be 
sent  home  in  rags  to  your  families,  to  spend  the  sad 
remains  of  life  in  poverty  and  scorn  ? — No !  my 
brothers  in  arms  !  I  trust  you  will  not.  I  trust  you 
bear  no  such  coward  minds.  I  trust,  that  after 
having  fought  so  bravely  for  the  rights  of  others,  you 
will  now  fight  as  bravely  for  your  own  rights.  And 
now  is  the  accepted  time  and  golden  hour  of  redress, 
while  you  have  weapons  in  your  hands,  the  strength 
of  an  army  to  support  you,  and  a  beloved  general  at 
your  head,  ready  to  lead  you  to  that  justice  which 
you  owe  to  yourselves,  and,  which  you  have  so  long 
but  vainly  expected  from  an  ungrateful  country." 

These  letters  produced,  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, a  most  alarming  effect.  Rage,  like  a  fire  in 
secret,  began  to  bum  throughout  the  camp.  Wash- 
ington soon  perceived  it.  He  discovered  it  in  his 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  133 

Soldiers,  as,  gathered  into  groupes,  they  stood  and 
murmured  over  their  grievances,  while,  with  furious 
looks  and  gestures,  they  stamped  on  the  earth,  and 
hurled  their  curses  against  Congress.  Gladdening  at 
such  success  of  his  first  letters,  the  writer  instantly 
sent  around  a  second  series,  still  more  artful  and  in- 
flammatory than  the  first.  The  passions  of  the  army 
now  rose  to  a  height  that  threatened  instantaneous 
explosion.  But  still  their  eyes,  beaming  reverence 
and  love,  were  turned  towards  their  honoured  chief, 
to  whom  they  had  ever  looked  as  to  a  father. 

Often  had  they  marked  his  tears,  as,  visiting  their 
encampments,  he  beheld  them  suffering  and  sinking 
under  fevers  and  fluxes,  for  want  of  clothes  and  pro- 
visions. Often,  had  they  hushed  their  complaints, 
trusting  to  his  promises  that  Congress  would  still 
remember  them.  But  behold!  his  promises  and 
their  hopes  are  all  alike  abortive ! 

And  will  not  Washington,  the  friend  of  justice  and 
father  of  his  army,  avenge  them  on  a  government 
which  has  thus  basely  defrauded  them,  and  deceived 
him  ?  There  needed  but  a  glance  of  his  approbation 
to  set  the  whole  army  in  motion.  Instantly  with  fixed 
bayonets  they  would  have  hurled  the  hated  Congress 
from  their  seats,  and  placed  their  beloved  Washing- 
ton on  the  throne  of  St.  Tammany.  Here,  no  doubt, 
the  tempter  flashed  the  dangerous  diadem  before  the 
eyes  of  our  countryman.  But  religion  at  the  same 
time,  pointed  him  to  the  great  lover  of  order,  holding 
up  that  crown,  in  comparison  of  which  the  diadems 
of  kings  are  but  dross.  Animated  with  such  hopes 
he  had  long  cherished  that  ardent  philanthropy 
which  sighs  for  liberty  to  all  countries,  and  especially 
to  his  own.  For  Liberty  he  had  fought  and  conquer- 
ed; and  now  considered  it,  with  all  its  blessings,  as 
at  hand.  "  Yet  a  little  while,  and  America  shall 
oecome  the  glory  of  the  earth — a  nation  of  Brothers, 
enjoying  the  golden  reign  of  equal  laws,  and  rejoicing 
under  their  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  and  no  tyrant  to 
12  11 


4  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

make  them  afraid.     And  shall  these  glorious  pros 
pects  be  darkened  ?  shall  they  be  darkened  by  Wash 
mgton !  shall  he,  ever  the  friend  of  his  country,  be 
come  her  bitterest  enemy,  by  fixing  upon  her  again 
the  iron  yoke  of  monarchy  ?  shall  he  !  the  father  of 
his  army,  become  their  assassin,  by  establishing  a 
government  that  shall  swallow  up  their  liberties  for 
ever  ?" 

The  idea  filled  his  soul  with  horror.  Instead, 
therefore,  of  tamely  yielding  to  the  v/ishes  of  his 
army  to  their  own  ruin,  he  bravely  opposes  them  to 
their  true  good  :  and  instead  of  drinking  in,  with  trai- 
torous smile,  the  hozannas  that  would  have  made 
him  king,  he  darkens  his  brow  of  parental  displeasure 
at  their  impiety.  He  flies  to  extinguish  their  rising 
rebellion.  He  addresses  letters  to  the  officers  of  the 
army,  desiring  them  to  meet  him  at  an  appointed 
time  and  place.  Happily  for  America,  the  voice  of 
Washington  still  sounded  in  their  ears,  as  the  voice 
of  a  father.  His  officers,  to  a  man,  all  gathered 
around  him ;  while,  with  a  countenance  inspiring 
veneration  and  love,  he  arose  arid  addressed  the  eager 
listening  chiefs.  He  began  with  reminding  them  of 
the  great  object  for  which  they  had  first  drawn 
their  swords,  i.  e.  the  liberty  of  their  country.  He 
applauded  that  noble  spirit  with  which  they  had  sub- 
mitted to  so  many  privations — combated  so  many 
dangers — and  overcome  so  many  difficulties.  And 
now,  said  he,  after  having  thus  waded,  like  Israel  of 
old,  through  a  red  sea  of  blood,  and  withstood  the 
thundering  Sinais  of  British  fury  ;  after  having  crush 
ed  the  fiery  serpents  of  Indian  rifles,  and  tramplec 
<lown  those  insidious  Amalekites,  the  tories — after 
having  travelled  through  a  howling  wilderness  of 
war,  and,  with  the  ark  of  your  country's  liberties  in 
camp,  safely  arrived  on  the  borders  of  Canaan,  and  in 
sight  of  the  glorious  end  of  all  your  labours,  will  you 
now  give  yourselves  up  the  dupes  of  a  "  British 
emissary,''  and  for  the  sordid  flesh-pots  ol  a  few 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  13J 

months'  pay,  rush  into  civil  war,  and  fall  back  to  a 
worse  than  Egyptian  bondage  ?  No  !  my  brave  coun- 
trymen :  I  trust  you  will  not:  I  trust,  that  an  army  so 
famed  throughout  the  world  for  patriotism,  will  yet 
maintain  its  reputation.  I  trust,  that  your  behaviour 
on  this  last,  this  most  trying  occasion,  will  fill  up  the 
measure  of  your  heroism,  and  stamp  the  American 
character  with  never  dying  fame.  You  have  achiev- 
ed miracles.  But  a  greater  miracle  still  remains  to 
be  achieved.  We  have  had  the  glory  to  conquer  our 
enemies ;  now  for  the  greater  glory  to  conquer  our- 
selves. Other  armies,  after  subduing  the  enemies  of 
their  country,  have  themselves,  for  power  and  plun- 
der, become  her  tyrants,  and  trampled  her  liberties 
under  foot.  Be  it  our  nobler  ambition,  after  suffer- 
ings unparalleled  for  our  needy  country,  to  return 
cheerful,  though  pennyless,  to  our  homes ;  and  pa- 
tiently wait  the  rewards  which  her  gratitude  will, 
one  day,  assuredly  bestow.  In  the  mean  time,  beat- 
ing our  swords  into  ploughshares,  and  our  bayonets 
into  reaping  hooks,  let  us,  as  peaceful  citizens,  culti- 
vate those  fields  from  which,  as  victorious  soldiers, 
we  lately  drove  the  enemy.  Thence,  as  from  the 
noblest  of  theatres,  you  will  display  a  spectacle  of 
patriotism  never  seen  before.  You  will  teach  the  de- 
lighted world,  that  men  are  capable  of  finding  a  hea 
ven  in  noble  actions :  and  you  will  give  occasion  to 
posterity  to  say,  when  speaking  of  your  present  be- 
haviour, had  this  day  been  wanting,  the  triumph  of 
our  fathers'  virtues  would  have  been  incomplete." 

As  he  spoke,  his  cheeks,  naturally  pale,  were  red- 
dened over  with  virtue's  pure  vermillion  :  while  his 
eyes,  of  cerulean  blue,  were  kindled  up  with  those 
indescribable  fires  which  fancy  lends  to  an  angel 
orator,  animating  poor  mortals,  to  the  sublimest  of 
god-like  deeds.  His  words,  were  not  in  vain.  From 
lips  of  wisdom,  and  long-tried  love,  like  hi?  such 
counsel  wrought  as  though  an  oracle  had  spoken, 
instantly  a  committee  of  the  whole  was  formed,  with 


139  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

general  Knox  at  their  head,  who,  in  thirty  minutes, 
reported  the  following  resolutions,  which  were  unani- 
mously adopted: 

"  RESOLVED — that  having  engaged  in  the  wai 
from  motives  of  the  purest  love  and  zeal  for  the  rights 
of  man,  no  circumstance  of  distress  or  danger  shall 
ever  induce  us  to  sully  the  glory  we  have  acquired 
at  the  price  of  our  blood,  and  eight  years'  faithful 
service. 

"  RESOLVED — that  we  continue  to   have   an   un 
shaken  confidence  in  the  justice  of  congress  and  our 
country. 

u  RESOLVED — that  we  view  with  abhorrence,  and 
reject  with  disdain,  the  infamous  proposition  con- 
tained in  a  late  anonymous  address  to  the  officers  of 
the  army." 

The  officers  then  hasted  back  to  their  troops,  who 
had  been  impatiently  expecting  them ;  and  related 
Washington's  speech.  They  also  stated  as  his  firm 
conviction,  that  "  the  claims  of  every  soldier  would  be 
liquidated  ;  his  accounts  accurately  ascertained  ;  and 
adequate  funds  provided  for  the  payment  of  them, 
as  soon  as  the  circumstances  of  the  nation  would 
permit. 

The  soldiers  listened  to  this  communication  with 
attention  :  and  heard  the  close  of  it  without  a  mur- 
mur. "  They  had  no  great  opinion,  they  said,  of 
congress — but  having  gone  such  lengths  for  duty 
and  old  George,  they  supposed  they  might  as  well 
now  go  a  little  farther,  and  make  thorough  work  of 
it.  A  little  pay  would,  to  be  sure,  have  been  very 
welcome  :  and  it  was  a  poor  military  chest  that  could 
not  afford  a  single  dollar,  especially  as  some  of  them 
had  hundreds  of  miles  to  travel  to  reach  their  homes. 
But  surely  the  people  won't  let  us  starve  for  a  meal's 
victuals  by  the  way,  especially  after  we  have  been  so 
long  fighting  their  battles.  So,  in  God's  name,  we'll 
even  shoulder  our  knapsacks,  whenever  our  general 
shall  say  the  word." 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  137 

The  aext  day  the  breaking  up  of  the  army  began, 
which  was  conducted  in  the  following  manner :  The 
troops  after  breakfast  were  ordered  under  arms.  On 
receiving  notice  that  they  were  ready  to  move, 
Washington  with  his  aids,  rode  out  on  the  plains  of 
their  encampment,  where  he  sat  on  his  horse  awaiting 
their  arrival.  The  troops  got  in  motion,  and  with 
fifes  and  muffled  drums  playing  the  mournful  air  of 
Roslin  Castle,  marched  up  for  the  last  time,  into  his 
presence.  Every  countenance  was  shrouded  in  sor- 
row. At  a  signal  given,  they  grounded  their  arms. 
Then,  waving  their  hats,  and  faintly  crying  out  "  God 
save  great  Washington,"  through  watery  eyes  they 
gave  him  a  long  adieu,  and  wheeled  off  in  files  for 
their  native  homes.  With  pensive  looks  his  eye  pur- 
sued them  as  they  retired,  wide  spreading  over  the 
fields.  But  when  he  saw  those  brave  troops  who  had 
so  long  obeyed  him,  and  who  had  just  given  such  an 
evidence  of  their  affection — when  he  saw  them  slow- 
ly descending  behind  the  distant  hills,  shortly  to  dis- 
appear for  ever,  then  nature  stirred  all  the  father 
within  him,  and  gave  him  up  to  tears.  But  he  wept 
not  "  as  those  without  hope."  He  rejoiced  in  the 
remembrance  of  HIM  who  treasures  up  the  toils  of 
the  virtuous,  and  will,  one  day,  bestow  that  reward 
which,  "  this  world  cannot  give." 

But  the  whole  army  was  not  disbanded  at  once. 
Shortly  after  this  he  went  down  to  New  York,  to 
finish  what  remained  of  his  duty  as  commander  in 
chief,  and  to  prepare  to  return  home.  On  the  last 
day  that  he  was  there,  it  being  known  that  he  meant 
to  set  out  for  Virginia  at  one  o'clock,  all  his  officers, 
who  happened  to  be  in  town,  assembled  at  Francis's 
tavern,  where  he  lodged,  to  bid  him  a  last  farewell. 
About  half  after  twelve  o'clock  the  general  entered 
the  room,  where  an  elegant  collation  was  spread  :  but 
none  tasted  it.  Conversation  was  attempted  :  but  it 
failed.  As  the  clock  struck  one,  the  general  went 
to  the  side-board,  and  filling  out  some  wine,  turned 
12*  U* 


138  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

to  his  officers,  and  begged  they  would  join  him  in  a 
glass.  Then,  with  a  look  of  sorrow  and  a  faltering 
voice,  he  said,  "  Well  my  brave  brothers  in  arms,  we 

part perhaps  to  meet  in  this  life  no  more.     And 

now  I  pray  God  to  take  you  all  in  his  holy  keeping, 
and  render  your  latter  days  as  prosperous  as  the  past 
have  been  glorious." 

Soon  as  they  had  drunk,  he  beckoned  to  general 
Knox,  who  approached  and  pressed  his  hand  in  tears 
of  delicious  silence.  The  officers  all  followed  his 
example ;  while  their  manly  cheeks,  swollen  with 
grief,  bespoke  sensations  too  strong  for  utterance. 
This  tender  scene  being  over,  he  moved  towards  the 
door,  followed  by  his  officers.  By  this  time  the  street 
from  the  hotel  to  the  river  was  filled  with  light  in- 
fantry, and  thousands  of  citizens,  who  all  attended 
him  in  silence  to  the  water-side,  where  he  was  to 
take  boat.  Here  another  pleasing  proof  of  esteem 
was  given  him.  Instead  of  the  common  ferry  boat,  a 
•arge  magnificently  decorated,  was  ready  to  receive 
him,  with  the  American  jack  and  colors  flying,  and 
manned  with  thirteen  sea  captains,  all  in  elegant 
blue  uniforms.  On  stepping  aboard  the  barge,  he 
turned  towards  the  people,  who  stood  in  vast  crowds 
on  the  shore  :  and  waving  his  hat,  bade  them  a  silent 
adieu,  which  they  in  like  solemn  manner  returned, 
all  waving  their  hats,  and  without  speaking  a  word. 
Having  received  their  honoured  freight,  the  sons  of 
Neptune,  ready  with  well  poised  oars,  leap  forward 
to  the  coxswain's  call ;  then,  all  at  once  falling  back, 
with  sudden  stroke  they  flash  their  bending  blades 
into  the  yielding  flood.  Swift  at  their  stroke  the 
barge  sprung  from  the  shore  ;  and,  under  the  music 
of  echoing  row-locks,  flew  through  the  waves,  foi- 
lowed  by  the  eager  gaze  of  the  pensive  thousands. 
The  sighing  multitude  then  turned  away  irom  the 
shore  with  feelings  whose  source  they  did  not,  per 
imps,  understand.  But  some,  on  returning  to  their 
homes,  spoke  to  their  listening  children  of  what  they 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  13& 

had  seen,  and  of  the  honours  which  belong  to  such 
virtue  as  Washington's. 

He  lodged  that  night  at  Elizabethtown,  fifteen 
miles  from  New  York.  The  next  morning,  elate 
with  thoughts  of  home,  he  ascended  his  chariot ;  and 
with  bounding  steeds  drove  on  his  way  through  the 
lovely  country  of  New  Jersey.  This  no  doubt,  was 
the  pleasantest  ride  by  far  that  he  had  known  since 
the  dark  days  of  '75.  For  though  joyless  winter 
was  spread  abroad,  with  her  cold  clouds,  and  winds 
shrill  whistling  over  the  flowerless  fields;  yet  to 
his  patriot  eye  the  face  of  nature  shone  brighter  than 
in  latter  years,  when  clad  in  springtide  green  and 
gold — for  it  was  covered  over  with  the  bright  mantle 
of  peace.  His  shoulders  were  freed  from  the  burden 
of  public  cares,  and  his  heart  from  the  anxieties  of 
supreme  command.  With  a  father's  joy  he  could 
look  around  on  the  thick  settled  country,  with  all  its 
little  ones,  and  flocks,  and  herds,  now  no  longer  ex- 
posed to  danger. 

"  Happy  farmers !  the  long  winter  of  war  is  past 
and  gone — the  spring  time  of  peace  is  returned,  and 
the  voice  of  her  dove  is  heard  in  our  land.  Restore 
your  wasted  farms.  Spread  abroad  the  fertilizing 
manure  :  and  prepare  again  to  crown  your  war 
worn  fields  with  joyful  crops." 

"  Happy  children  !  now  pour  forth  again  in  safety 
to  your  schools.  Treasure  up  the  golden  knowledge  ; 
and  make  yourselves  the  future  glory  and  guardians 
of  your  country." 

Happy  citizens  !  hasten  to  rebuild  the  ruined 
temples  of  your  God.  And  lift  your  glad  songs  to 
Him,  the  great  ruler  of  war,  who  aided  your  feeble 
arms,  and  trampled  down  the  mighty  enemy  beneath 
your  feet." 

But  often,  amidst  these  happy  thoughts,  the  swift 
wheeled  chariot  would  bring  him  in  view  of  fields  on 
which  his  bleeding  memory  co  jd  not  dwell  without 
a  tear.  "  There  the  battling  a vmies  met  in  thunder 


140  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

The  stormy  strife  was  short.  But  yonder  mourn fui 
hillocks  point  the  place  where  many  of  our  brave 
heroes  sleep  ;  perhaps  some  good  angel  has  whisper- 
ed that  their  fall  was  not  in  vain." 

On  his  journey  homewards,  he  stopped  for  a 
moment  at  Philadelphia,  to  do  an  act,  which  to  a 
mind  proudly  honest  like  his,  must  have  been  a 
sublime  treat.  He  stopped  to  present  to  the  comp- 
troller-general an  account  of  all  the  public  moneys 
which  he  had  spent.  Though  this  account  was  in 
his  own  hand  writing,  and  accompanied  with  the 
proper  vouchers,  yet  it  will  hardly  be  credited  by 
European  statesmen  and  generals,  that,  in  the 
course  of  an  eight  years  war,  he  had  spent  only 
12,4971.  8s.  9d.  sterling!! 

From  Philadelphia  he  hastened  on  to  Annapolis, 
where  Congress  was  then  in  session,  that  he  might 
return  to  that  honourable  body  the  commission  with 
which  they  had  entrusted  him. 

Having  always  disliked  parade,  he  wished  to  make 
his  resignation  in  writing.  But  Congress,  it  seems, 
willed  otherwise.  To  see  a  man  voluntarily  giving 
up  power,  was  a  spectacle  not  to  be  met  with  every 
day.  And  that  they  might  have  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing him  in  this  last,  and  perhaps  greatest,  act  of  his 
public  life,  they  expressed  a  wish  to  receive  his 
zesignation  from  his  own  hand  at  a  full  audience. 
The  next  day,  the  23d  of  December,  1783,  was 
appointed  for  the  purpose.  At  an  early  hour  the 
house  was  crowded.  The  members  of  Congress,  with 
the  grandees  of  the  land,  filled  the  floors.  The  ladies 
sparkled  in  the  galleries.  At  eleven  o'clock,  Wash 
ington  was  ushered  into  the  house,  and  conducted  to 
a  seat  which  had  been  prepared  for  him,  covered 
with  red  velvet.  After  a  becoming  pause,  and 
information  given  by  the  president,  that  the  United 
States  in  Congress  assembled  were  ready  to  Deceive 
his  communication,  he  arose ;  and  with  great  brevity 
and  modesty  observed,  that  he  had  presented  himsetf 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  141 

before  them,  to  resign  into  their  hands  with  satisfac 
lion  the  commission  which,  eight  years  before,  he 
had  accepted  with  diffidence.  He  begged  to  offer 
them  his  sincerest  congratulations  for  the  glorious 
result  of  their  united  struggles;  took  no  part  of  the 
praise  to  himself;  but  ascribed  all  to  the  blessing  of 
Heaven  on  the  exertions  of  the  nation.  Then 
fervently  commending  his  dearest  country  to  the 
protection  of  Almighty  God,  he  bade  them  an  affec 
tionate  farewell ;  and  taking  leave  of  all  the  em- 
ployments of  public  life,  surrendered  up  his  com- 
mission ! 

Seldom  has  there  been  exhibited  so  charming  a 
display  of  the  power  which  pre-eminent  virtue  pos- 
sesses over  the  human  heart,  as  on  this  occasion. 
Short  and  simple  as  was  the  speech  of  Washington, 
yet  it  seems  to  have  carried  back  every  trembling 
imagination  to  the  fearful  days  of  '75,  when  the 
British  fleets  and  armies  were  thundering  on  oui 
coasts,  and  when  nothing  was  talked  of  but  slavery, 
confiscation,  and  executions.  And  now  they  saw 
before  them  the  man  to  whom  they  all  looked  for 
safety  in  that  gloomy  time — who  had  completely 
answered  their  fond  hopes — who  had  stood  by  them 
incorruptible  and  unshaken — had  anticipated  their 
mighty  enemy  in  all  his  plans — had  met  him  at  every 
point — had  thwarted,  defeated,  and  blasted  all  his 
hopes — and,  victory  after  victory  won,  had  at  length 
laid  his  strong  legions  in  dust  or  in  chains — and  had 
secured  to  his  country  a  glorious  independence,  with 
the  fairest  chance  of  being  one  of  the  most  respecta- 
ble and  happy  nations  of  the  earth — and,  in  conse- 
quence of  all  this,  had  so  completely  won  the  hearts 
of  his  army  and  his  nation,  that  he  could  perhaps 
have  made  himself  their  master.  At  all  events,  a 
Caesar  or  a  Cromwell  would,  at  the  hazard  of  a 
million  of  lives,  made  the  sacrilegious  attempt.  Yet 
they  now  saw  this  man  scorning  to  abuse  his  power 
to  the  degradation  of  his  country, — but  on  the  con- 


142  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

frary,  treating  her  with  the  most  sacred  respect — 
dutifully  bowing  before  her  delegated  presence,  the 
congress — cheerfully  returning  the  commission  she 
had  entrusted  him  with — piously  laying  down  his 
extensive  powers  at  her  feet — and  modestly  falling 
back  into  the  humble  condition  of  the  rest  of  her 
children.  The  sight  of  their  great  countryman, 
already  so  beloved,  and  now  acting  so  generous,  so 
godlike  a  part,  produced  an  effect  beyond  the  power 
of  words  to  express.  Their  feelings  of  admiration 
and  affection  were  too  delicious,  too  big  for  utterance 
Every  countenaace  was  swollen  with  sentiment ;  and 
delicious  tears  moistened  every  eye,  which,  though  a 
silent,  was  perhaps  the  richest  offering  of  veneration 
and  esteem  ever  paid  to  a  human  being. 

Having  discharged  this  last  great  debt  to  his 
country,  the  next  morning  early  he  ascended  his 
chariot ;  and  listened  with  joy  to  the  rattling  wheels, 
now  running  off  his  last  day's  journey  to  Mount 
Vernon.  Ah !  could  gloomy  tyrants  but  feel  what 
Washington  felt  that  day,  when,  sweeping  along  the 
road,  with  grateful  heart,  he  revolved  the  mighty 
work  which  he  had  finished — his  country  saved  and 
his  conscience  clear;  they  would  tear  off  the  accursed 
purple,  and  starting  from  their  blood-stained  thrones, 
like  Washington,  seek  true  happiness  in  making 
others  happy. 

O  Washington  !  thrice  glorious  name, 

What  due  rewards  can  man  decree  1 

Empires  are  far  below  thy  aim, 

And  sceptres  have  no  charms  for  ttiee ; 

Duty  alone  has  thy  regard, 

t<»  her  thou  oeak'st  thy  great  reward. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  143 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Washington  again  on  his  farm — sketch  of  his  conduct  there — suggest! 
the  importance  of  inland  navigation — companies  forming — urges  a 
reform  of  the  old  constitution — appointed  President  of  the  United 
States — great  difficulties  to  encounter — gloriously  surmounts  them. 

To  be  happy  in  every  situation  is  a  proof  of  wis- 
dom seldom  afforded  by  man.  It  proves  that  the 
heart  is  set  on  that  which  alone  can  ever  completely 
satisfy  it,  i.  e.  the  imitation  of  God  in  benevolent  and 
useful  life.  This  was  the  happy  case  with  Washing- 
ton. To  establish  in  his  country  the  golden  reign  of 
liberty  is  his  grand  wish.  In  the  accomplishment  of 
this  he  seeks  his  happiness.  He  abhors  war ;  but,  if 
war  be  necessary,  to  this  end  he  bravely  encounters 
it.  His  ruling  passion  must  be  obeyed.  He  beat  his 
ploughshare  into  a  sword,  and  exchanged  the  peace 
and  pleasures  of  his  farm  for  the  din  and  dangers  of 
the  camp.  Having  won  the  great  prize  for  which  he 
contended,  he  returns  to  his  plough.  His  military 
habits  are  laid  by  with  the  same  ease  as  he  would 
throw  off  an  old  coat.  The  camp  with  all  its  parade 
and  noise,  is  forgotten.  He  awakes,  in  his  silent 
chambers  at  Mount  Vernon,  without  sighing  for  the 
sprightly  drums  and  fifes  that  used  to  salute  him 
every  morning.  Happy  among  his  domestics,  he 
does  not  regret  the  shining  ranks  of  patriot  soldiers 
that  used  to  pay  him  homage.  The  useful  citizen  is 
the  high  character  he  wishes  to  act — his  sword  turned 
into  a  ploughshare  is  his  favourite  instrument ;  and 
his  beloved  farm  his  stage.  Agriculture  had  been 
always  his  delight.  To  breathe  the  pure  healthful 
air  of  a  farm,  perfumed  with  odorous  flowers,  and 
enriched  with  golden  harvests,  and  with  numerous 
flocks  and  herds,  appeared  to  him  a  life  nearest  con 
nected  with  individual  and  national  happiness.  To 
this  great  object  he  turns  all  his  attention — bends  all 
tiis  exertions.  He  writes  to  the  most  skilful  farmers, 


144  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

not  only  in  America,  but  in  England  (for  Washington 
was  incapable  of  bearing  malice  against  a  people  who 
had  been  reconciled  to  his  country  ;)  he  writes,  I  say, 
to  the  ablest  farmers  in  America  and  England,  for 
instructions  how  best  to  cultivate  and  improve  his 
lands — what  grains,  what  grasses,  what  manures 
would  best  suit  his  soils ;  what  shrubs  are  fittest  for 
fences,  and  what  animals  for  labour. 

But,  to  a  soul  large  and  benevolent  like  his,  to 
beautify  his  own  farm,  and  to  enrich  his  own  family, 
seemed  like  doing  nothing.  To  see  the  whole  nation 
engaged  in  glorious  toils,  filling  themselves  with 
plenty,  and  inundating  the  sea  ports  with  food  and 
raiment  for  the  poor  and  needy  of  distant  nations — 
this  was  his  godlike  ambition.  But,  knowing  that  his 
beloved  countrymen  could  not  long  enjoy  the  honour 
and  advantage  of  such  glorious  toils,  unless  they  could 
easily  convey  their  swelling  harvests  to  their  own 
markets,  he  hastened  to  rouse  them  to  a  proper  sense 
of  the  infinite  importance  of  forming  canals  and  cuts 
between  all  the  fine  rivers  that  run  through!  he  Unit- 
ed States.  To  give  the  greater  weight  to  his  coun- 
sel, he  had  first  ascended  the  sources  of  those  great 
rivers — ascertained  the  distance  between  them — the 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  navigation — and  the  probable 
expense  of  removing  them. 

Agreeably  to  his  wishes,  two  wealthy  companies 
were  soon  formed  to  extend  the  navigation  of  James 
River  and  Potomac,  the  noblest  rivers  in  Virginia. 
Struck  with  the  exceeding  benefit  which  both  them- 
selves and  their  country  would  speedily  derive  from 
a  plan  which  he  had  not  only  suggested,  but  had 
taken  such  pains  and  expense  to  recommend,  they 
pressed  him  to  accept  one  hundred  and  fifty  shares 
of  the  company's  stock,  amounting  to  near  40,000 
dollars  !  But  he  instantly  refused  it,  saying,  "  what 
will  the  world  think  if  they  should  hear  that  I  havo 
taken  40,000  dollars  for  this  affair  ?  Will  they  not  be 
apt  to  suspect,  on  my  next  proposition,  that  money 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  145 

is  my  motive  ?  Thus,  for  the  sake  of  mon«y,  which 
indeed  I  never  coveted  from  my  country,  I  may  lose 
the  power  to  do  her  some  service,  which  may  b« 
worth  more  than  all  money ! !" 

But,  while  engaged  in  this  goodly  work,  he  was 
suddenly  alarmed  by  the  appearance  of  an  evil,  which 
threatened  to  put  an  end  to  all  his  well-meant  labours 
for  ever — this  was,  the  incipient  dissolution  of  the 
federal  government ! !  The  framers  of  that  fair  but 
flimsy  fabric,  having  put  it  together  according  to  the 
square  and  compass  of  equal  rights,  and  mutual 
interests,  thought  they  had  done  enough.  The  good 
sense  and  virtue  of  the  nation,  it  was  supposed,  would 
form  a  foundation  of  rock  whereon  it  would  safely 
rest,  in  spite  of  all  commotions,  foreign  or  domestic. 

"  But,  alas  !"  said  Washington,  "  experience  has 
shown,  that  men  unless  constrained,  will  seldom  do 
what  is  for  their  own  good.  With  joy  1  once  beheld 
my  country  feeling  the  liveliest  sense  of  her  rights, 
and  maintaining  them  with  a  spirit  apportioned  to 
their  worth.  With  joy  I  have  seen  all  the  wise  men 
of  Europe  looking  on  her  with  admiration,  and  all  the 
good  with  hope,  that  her  fair  example  would  rege- 
nerate the  whole  world,  and  restore  the  blessings  of 
equal  government  to  long  oppressed  humanity.  But 
alas  !  in  place  of  maintaining  this  glorious  attitude, 
America  is  herself  rushing  into  disorder  and  dissolu- 
tion. We  have  powers  sufficient  for  self-defence  and 
glory ;  but  those  powers  are  not  exerted.  For  fear 
congress  should  abuse  it,  the  people  will  not  trust 
their  power  with  congress.  Foreigners  insult  and 
injure  us  with  impunity ;  for  congress  has  no  power 
to  chastise  them. — Ambitious  men  stir  up  factions 
Congress  possesses  no  power  to  coerce  them.  Public 
creditors  call  for  their  money.  Congress  has  no 
power  to  collect  it.  In  short,  we  cannot  long  subsist 
as  a  nation,  without  lodging  somewhere  a  power 
that  may  command  the  full  energies  of  the  nation  for 
defence  from  all  its  enemies,  and  for  the  supply  of  alJ 
13  12 


146  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

its  wants.  The  people  will  soon  be  tired  of  such  a 
government.  They  will  sigh  for  a  change  :  and  many 
of  them  already  begin  to  talk  of  monarchy,  without 
horror '" 

In  this,  as  in  all  cases  of  apprehended  danger,  his 
pen  knew  no  rest.  The  leading  characters  of  the 
nation  were  roused  :  and  a  CONVENTION  was  formed, 
of  deputies  from  the  several  states,  to  revise  and 
amend  the  general  government.  Of  this  convention 
Washington  was  unanimously  chosen  president. — 
Their  session  commenced  in  Philadelphia,  May,  1787 
and  ended  in  October.  The  fruit  of  their  six  months 
labour  was  the  present  excellent  CONSTITUTION,  which 
was  no  sooner  adopted,  than  the  eyes  of  U-d  whole 
nation  were  fixed  on  him  for  president. 

Being  now  in  his  57th  year,  and  wedded  to  his 
farm  and  family,  he  had  no  wish  to  enter  again  into 
the  cares  and  dangers  of  public  life.  Ease  was  now 
become  almost  as  necessary  as  it  was  dear  to  him. 
His  reputation  was  already  at  the  highest ;  and  as  to 
money,  in  the  service  of  his  country  he  had  always 
refused  it.  These  things  considered,  together  with 
his  acknowledged  modesty  and  disinterestedness,  we 
can  hardly  doubt  the  correctness  of  his  declaration, 
that,  "  the  call  to  the  magistracy  was  the  most  un- 
welcome he  had  ever  heard." 

However,  as  soon  as  it  was  officially  notified  to 
him,  in  the  spring  of  1789,  that  he  was  unanimously 
elected  President  of  the  United  States,  and  that  Con- 
gress, then  sitting  in  New  York,  was  impatient  to  see 
him  in  the  chair,  he  set  out  for  that  city.  Then  all 
along  the  roads  where  he  passed,  were  seen  the  most 
charming  proofs  of  that  enthusiasm  with  which  the 
hearts  of  all  delighted  to  honour  him.  If  it  was  only 
said, "  General  Washington  is  coming,"  it  was  enough. 
The  inhabitants  all  hastened  from  their  houses  to  the 
highways,  to  have  a  sight  of  their  great  countryman; 
while  the  people  of  the  towns,  hearing  of  his  approach, 
sallied  out,  horse  and  foot,  to  meet  him.  In  eager 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  147 

(hrongs,  men,  women  and  children,  pressed  upon  his 
steps,  as  waves  in  crowding  ridges  pursue  the  course 
of  a  ship  through  the  ocean.  And  as  a  new  succes- 
sion of  waves  is  ever  ready  to  take  the  place  of  those 
which  have  just  ended  their  chase  in  playful  foam, 
so  it  was  with  the  ever-gathering  crowds  that  follow- 
ed their  Washington. 

"On  reaching  the  western  banks  of  the  Schuylkill," 
said  a  gentleman  who  was  present,  "  I  was  astonish- 
ed at  the  concourse  of  people  that  overspread  the 
country,  apparently  from  Gray's  ferry  to  the  city. 
Indeed  one  would  have  thought  that  the  whole 
population  of  Philadelphia  was  come  out  to  meet 
him.  And  to  see  so  many  thousands  of  people  on 
foot,  on  horseback,  and  in  coaches,  all  voluntarily 
waiting  upon  and  moving  along  with  one  man,  struck 
me  with  strangely  agreeable  sensations.  Surely, 
thought  I,  there  must  be  a  divinity  in  goodness,  that 
mankind  should  thus  delight  to  honour  it." 

His  reception  at  Trenton  was  more  than  flattering. 
It  was  planned,  they  said,  by  the  ladies,  and  indeed 
bore  marks  that  it  could  have  been  done  only  by 
them.  The  reader  must  remember,  that  it  was  near 
this  place  that  the  fair  sex  in  '76  suffered  such  cruel 
indignities  from  the  enemy ;  and  that  it  was  here 
that  Providence  in  the  same  year  enabled  Washing- 
ton so  severely  to  chastise  them  for  it.  The  women 
are  not  apt  to  forget  their  benefactors.  Hearing  that 
Washington  was  on  his  way  to  Trenton,  they  instant- 
ly held  a  caucus  among  themselves,  to  devise  ways 
and  means  to  display  their  gratitude  to  him.  Under 
their  direction,  the  bridge  over  the  Sanpink,  (a  nar- 
row creek  running  through  Trenton,  upon  whose 
opposite  banks  Washington  and  the  British  onco 
fought,)  was  decorated  with  a  triumphal  arch,  with 
this  inscription  in  large  figures  : 

,  DECEMBER  26,  1776. 

THE   HERO  WHO   DEFENDED   THE    MOTHERS, 
WILL   ALSO   PROTECT  THE    DAUGHTERS. 


148  ^IFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

He  approached  the  bridge  on  its  south  side,  amidst 
the  heartiest  shouts  of  congratulating  thousands 
while  on  the  north  side  were  drawn  up  Severn) 
hundreds  of  little  girls,  dressed  in  snow-white  robes 
with  temples  adorned  with  garlands,  and  baskets  ot 
flowers  on  their  arms.  Just  behind  them  stood  long 
rows  of  young  virgins,  whose  fair  faces,  of  sweetest 
red  and  white,  highly  animated  by  the  occasion, 
looked  quite  angelic — and,  behind  them  in  crowds, 
stood  their  venerable  mothers.  As  Washington 
slowly  drove  off  the  bridge,  the  female  voices  ali 
began,  sweet  as  the  first  wakings  of  the  Eoliap  ha^p : 
and  thus  they  rolled  the  song : 

•'  Welcome,  i>iighty  chief!  once  more 
Weleome  to  this  grateful  shore. 
Now  110  mercenary  foe 
Aims  again  the  fatal  blow, 
Aims  at  thee  the  fatal  blow. 

Virgins  fair,  and  matrons  grave, 
(These  thy  conquering  arm  did  save !) 
Build  for  thee  triumphal  bowers, 
Strew,  ye  fair,  his  way  with  flowers ; 
Strew  your  hero's  way  with  flowers. 

While  singing  the  last  lines,  they  strewed  the  waj 
with  flowers  before  him. 

Some  have  said  that  they  could  see  in  his  altered 
looks,  that  he  remembered  the  far  different  scenes  of 
'76  ;  for  that  they  saw  him  wipe  a  tear.  No  doubt 
it  was  the  sweet  tear  of  gratitude  to  him  who  had 
preserved  him  to  see  this  happy  day. 

At  New  York  the  behaviour  of  the  citizens  was 
equally  expressive  of  the  general  veneration  and 
esteem.  The  ships  in  the  harbour  were  all  dressed 
in  their  flags  and  streamers ;  and  the  wharves  where 
he  landed  were  richly  decorated.  At  the  water's 
edge  he  was  received  by  an  immense  concourse  of 
the  joyful  citizens ;  and,  amidst  the  mingled  thundei 
of  guns  and  acclamations,  was  conducted  to  his  lodg 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  .49 

mgs.  Such  honours,  would  have  intoxicated  most 
men  :  but  to  a  mind  like  his,  habitually  conversant 
with  the  far  sublimer  subjects  of  the  Christian  philo- 
sophy, they  must  have  looked  quite  puerile.  Indeed 
it  appears  from  a  note  made  in  his  journal  that  very 
evening,  tha*.  he  regarded  all  these  marks  of  public 
favour  rather  as  calls  to  humility  than  pride.  "  The 
display  of  boats  on  this  occasion/'  says  he,  "  with 
vocal  and  instrumental  music  on  board,  the  decora- 
tions of  the  ships,  the  roar  of  cannon,  and  the  loud 
acclamations  of  the  people,  as  I  passed  along  the 
wharves,  gave  me  as  much  pain  as  pleasure,  con- 
templating the  probable  reverse  of  this  scene  after 
all  my  endeavour  to  do  good." 

It  was  on  the  23d  of  April,  1789,  that  he  arrived 
in  New  York  :  and  on  the  30th,  after  taking  the  oath, 
as  president  of  the  United  States,  to  preserve,  protect, 
and  defend  the  constitution,  he  entered  upon  the 
duties  of  his  office. 

As  things  then  stood,  even  his  bitterest  enemies,  if 
he  had  any,  might  have  said,  "  happy  man  be  his 
dole  !"  for  he  came  to  the  helm  in  a  perilous  and 
fearful  season.  Like  chaos,  "  in  the  olden  time/'  our 
government  was  "  without  form  and  void  :  and  dark- 
ness dwelt  upon  the  face  of  the  deep."  Enemies 
innumerable  threatened  the  country,  both  from  within 
and  without,  abroad  and  at  home — the  people  of 
three  continents  at  daggers  drawn  with  the  young 
republic  of  America ! 

The  pirates  of  Morocco  laying  their  uncircumcised 
hands  on  our  rich  commerce  in  the  Mediterranean. 

The  British  grumbling  and  threatening  war. 

The  Spaniards  shutting  up  the  Mississippi ! 

The  Kentuckians  in  great  warmth,  threatening  to 
break  the  Union,  and  join  the  Spaniards  ' 

The  Indian  nations,  from  Canada  to  Georgia,  un- 
burying  the  tomahawk ! 

North  Carolina  and  Rhode  Island,  blowing  on  the 

.vfedfracy  !  strong  parties  in  other  states  against  it! 
13*  12* 


150  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

— and  an  alarming  insurrection  in  Massachusetts* 
While,  to  combat  all  these  enemies,  the  United  State? 
had  but  600  regular  troops ! !  and,  though  eighty 
millions  of  dollars  in  debt,  they  had  not  one  cent  in 
me  treasury  ! ! !  Here  certainly,  if  ever,  was  the  time 
to  try  a  man's  soul.  But  Washington  despaired  not. 
Glowing  with  the  love  of  his  country,  and  persuaded 
that  his  country  still  enjoyed  an  opportunity  to  be 
great  and  happy,  he  resolved,  whatever  it  might  cost 
him,  that  nothing  should  be  wanting  on  his  part  to 
fill  up  the  measure  of  her  glory.  But  first  of  all,  in 
his  inaugural  speech,  he  called  upon  Congress  and 
his  countrymen,  to  look  up  to  God  for  his  blessing ; 
next,  as  to  themselves,  to  be  most  industrious,  hon- 
ourable, and  united,  as  became  men  responsible  to 
ages  yet  unborn,  for  all  the  blessings  of  a  republican 
government,  now,  and  perhaps  for  the  last  time,  at 
stake,  on  their  wisdom  and  virtue  ; — then  as  to  him- 
self; "  I  feel,"  said  he,  "  my  incompetency  of  political 
skill  and  abilities.  Integrity  and  firmness  are  all  I 
can  promise.  These,  I  know,  will  never  forsake  me, 
although  I  may  be  deserted  by  all  men :  and  of  the 
consolations  to  be  derived  from  these,  under  no  cir- 
cumstances can  the  world  ever  deprive  me." — And 
last  of  all,  as,  in  a  crazy  ship  at  sea,  tossed  by  furious 
winds,  no  pilot  can  save  without  the  aid  of  able  sea 
men,  Washington  prudently  rallied  around  him  the 
wisest  of  all  his  countrymen. 

Mr.  Jefferson,  Secretary  of  Foreign  Affairs. 

Col.  Hamilton,  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 

Gen.  Knox,  Secretary  of  War. 

Edmund  Randolph,  Attorney  General. 

John  Jay,  Chief  Justice. 

John  Rutledge,     "| 

James  Wilson, 

John  Gushing,        I  Associate  Judges 

Robert  Harrison,   I 

John  Blair, 

These  judicious  preparations  being  made  for  ttu 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  151 

storm,  (Heaven's  blessing  invoked,  and  the  ablest 
pilots  embarked  with  him,)  Washington  then  seized 
the  helm,  with  a  gallant  hard-a-iee;  luffed  up  his 
ship  at  once  to  the  gale,  hoping  yet  to  shoot  the 
hideous  gulfs  that  threatened  all  around. 

His  first  attention  was  turned  to  the  call  of 
Humanity,  i.  e.  to  satisfy  and  make  peace  with  the 
Indians.  This  was  soon  done ;  partly  by  presents, 
and  by  establishing,  in  their  country,  houses  of  fair 
trade,  which,  by  preventing  frauds,  prevent  those 
grudges  that  lead  to  private  murders,  and  thence  to 
public  disturbances  and  wars.  Some  of  the  Indian 
tribes,  despising  these  friendly  efforts  of  Washington 
were  obliged  to  be  drubbed  into  peace,  which  service 
was  done  for  them  by  General  Wayne,  in  1794 — 
but  not  until  many  lives  had  been  lost  in  preceding 
defeats;  owing  chiefly,  it  was  said,  to  the  very 
intemperate  passions  and  potations  of  some  of  their 
officers.  However,  after  the  first  shock,  the  loss  of 
these  poor  souls  was  not  much  lamented.  Tall  young 
fellows,  who  could  easily  get  their  half  dollar  a  day 
at  the  healthful  and  glorious  labours  of  the  plough, 
to  go  and  enlist  and  rust  among  the  lice  and  itch  of 
a  camp,  for  four  dollars  a  month,  were  certainly  not 
worth  their  country's  crying  about. 

Washington's  friendly  overtures  to  Spain  were 
equally  fortunate.  Believing  that  he  desired  nothing 
but  what  was  perfectly  just,  and  what  both  God  and 
man  would  support  him  in,  she  presently  agreed  to 
negociate.  The  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  was 
given  up.  The  Kentuckians  were  satisfied:  and 
Spain  and  the  United  States  lived  on  good  terms  all 
the  rest  of  his  days. 

Washington  then  tried  his  hands  with  the  British 
But  alas  !  he  soon  found  that  they  were  not  made  oi 
such  pliable  stuff  as  the  Indians  and  Spaniards.  Nor 
had  he  the  British  alone  to  complain  of.  He  present- 
ly found  it  as  hard  to  satisfy  his  own  countrymen,  in 
ihe  matter  of  a  treaty,  as  to  please  them. 


152  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

For  whether  it  was  that  the  two  nations  still 
retained  a  most  unchristian  recollection  of  what  they 
had  suffered  from  one  another  during  the  past  war—- 
or whether,  more  unchristianly  still,  they  felt  the 
odious  spirit  of  rivals,  and  sickened  at  each  other's 
prosperity — or  whether  each  nation  thought  that  the 
ships  of  the  other  were  navigated  by  their  seamen  , 
but  so  it  was,  that  the  prejudices  of  the  two  people, 
though  sprung  from  the  same  progenitors,  ran  so 
high  as  to  render  it  extremely  difficult  for  Washing- 
ton to  settle  matters  between  them.  But  it  was  at 
length  happily  effected,  without  the  horrors  of 
another  war.  Though  the  treaty  which  brought 
about  this  desirable  event  was  entirely  execrated  by 
great  numbers  of  sensible  and  honest  men  no  doubt, 
yet  Washington,  led,  as  he  says,  by  duty  and  human- 
ity, ratified  it. 

If  the  signing  of  the  treaty  displayed  his  firmness, 
the  operation  of  it  has,  perhaps,  shown  his  wisdom. 
For,  surely,  since  that  time,  no  country  like  this  ever 
so  progressed  in  the  public  and  private  blessings  of 
industry,  wealth,  population,  and  morals.  Whether 
greater,  or,  indeed,  equal  blessings  would  have  re- 
sulted from  a  bloody  war  with  England  at  that  time, 
let  others  determine. 

But  scarcely  had  Washington  got  clear  of  his  em- 
barrassments with  Britain,  before  still  worse  were 
thrown  in  his  way  by  France. 

The  cause  was  this.  "The  French  army,"  as 
Doctor  Franklin  observes, "  having  served  an  appren- 
ticeship to  Liberty,  in  America,  on  going  back  to 
France,  set  up  for  themselves."  Throughout  the 
kingdom,  wherever  they  went,  they  could  talk  ot 
nothing  but  the  Americans.  "  Ah,  happy  people  !" 
said  they,  "neither  oppressing  nor  oppressed,  they 
mingle  together  as  one  great  family  of  brothers. 
Every  man  is  free.  Every  man  labours  for  himself, 
and  wipes  with  joy  the  sweat  from  his  brow,  because 
'tis  the  earnest  of  plenteous  food  and  clothing,  educa- 
tion, and  delights,  for  his  children  !" 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  153 

The  people  every  where  listened  with  eagerness 
to  these  descriptions  of  American  happiness,  and 
sighed  to  think  of  their  own  wretchedness.  The 
smothered  fire  soon  broke  out.  The  press  teemed 
with  papers  and  pamphlets  on  the  rights  oi  Man — 
the  true  ends  of  government, — and  the  blessings  of 
Liberty.  The  eyes  of  the  great  nation  were  present- 
ly opened  to  a  sight  of  her  degraded  and  wretched 
state.  Then  suddenly  springing  up,  like  a  mighty 
giantess  from  the  hated  bed  of  violation  and  dis- 
honour, she  began  a  course  of  vengeance  as  terrible 
as  it  had  been  long  delayed.  The  unfortunate  king 
and  queen  were  quickly  brought  low.  The  heads  of 
her  tyrants  every  where  bounded  on  the  floors  of 
the  guillotine ;  while  in  every  place  dogs  licked  the 
blood  of  nobles:  and  the  bodies  of  great  lords  were 
scattered  like  dung  over  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Fearing  that  if  France  were  suffered  to  go  on  al 
this  rate,  there  would  not  in  a  little  time,  be  a  crown 
left  in  Europe,  the  crowned  heads  all  confederated 
to  arrest  her  progress.  The  whole  surrounding 
world,  both  by  land  and  water,  was  in  commotion  : 
and  tremendous  fleets  and  armies  poured  in  from 
every  side,  to  overwhelm  her.  With  unanimity  and 
valour  equal  to  their  dangers,  the  war-loving  Gauls 
rushed  forth  in  crowding  millions  to  meet  their  foes. 
The  mighty  armies  joined  in  battle,  appearing  to  the 
terrified  eye,  as  if  the  whole  human  race  were  rush- 
ing together  for  mutual  destruction.  But  not  content 
with  setting  the  eastern  world  on  fire,  the  furious 
combatants  (like  Milton's  warring  Spirits  tearing  up 
and  flinging  mountains  and  islands  at  each  other) 
flew  to  America  to  seize  and  drag  her  into  their 
war. 

Flaming  on  this  errand,  Mr.  Genet  lighted  on  out 
continent  as  an  envoy  from  France.  He  was 
received  with  joy  as  a  brother  republican.  The  peo- 
ple every  where  welcomed  him  as  the  representative 
of  a  beloved  nation,  to  whom,  under  God,  they  owed 


154  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

theii  liberties.  Grand  dinners  were  given — spark 
ling  bumpers  were  filled — and  standing  up  round  the 
vast  convivial  board,  with  joined  hands,  and  cheeks 
glowing  with  friendship  and  the  generous  juice,  they 
rent  the  air  with — "  health  and  fraternity  to  the 
sister  republics  of  France  and  America." 

Washington  joined  in  the  general  hospitality  to 
the  stranger.  He  extolled  the  valour,  and  congratu- 
lated the  victories  of  his  brave  countrymen.  "Born, 
sir,"  said  he,  "  in  a  land  of  Liberty,  for  whose  sake 
I  have  spent  the  best  years  of  my  life  in  war,  I  can- 
not but  feel  a  trembling  anxiety  whenever  I  see  an 
oppressed  people  drawing  their  swords  and  rearing 
aloft  the  sacred  banners  of  freedom." 

Enraptured  at  finding  in  America  such  a  cordial 
spirit  towards  his  country,  Mr.  Genet  instantly  set 
himself  to  call  it  into  the  fullest  exertion.  And  by 
artfully  ringing  the  changes  on  British  cruelty,  and 
French  generosity,  to  the  Americans,  he  so  far 
succeeded  as  to  prevail  on  some  persons  in  Charles- 
ton to  commence  the  equipment  of  privateers  against 
the  British.  Dazzled  by  the  lustre  of  false  gratitude 
to  one  nation,  they  lost  sight  of  their  horrid  injustice 
to  another :  and  during  the  profoundest  peace  be- 
tween England  and  America,  when  the  American 
planters,  by  their  flour,  rice,  and  cotton,  were  making 
money  almost  as  fast  as  if  they  had  mints  upon 
their  estates;  and  when,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
British  artisans  were  driving  on  their  manufactures 
day  and  night  for  the  Americans— in  this  sacred 
season  and  blissful  state  of  things,  certain  persons 
in  Charleston  began  to  equip  privateers  against 
England. 

Grieved  that  his  countrymen  should  be  capable  of 
such  an  outrage  against  justice,  against  humanity,and 
every  thing  sacred  among  men  ;  and  equally  grieved 
to  see  them  so  far  forget,  so  far  belittle  themselves  as 
to  become  willing  cat's  paws  of  one  nation,  to  tear 
another  tc  pieces,  he  instantly  issued  his  proclaim. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  155 

tion,  stating  it  as  the  "  duty,  and  therefore  the 
interest  of  the  United  States,  to  preserve  the  strictest 
neutrality  between  the  belligerents  :  and  prohibiting 
the  citizens  of  the  United  States,  from  all  manner  of 
interference  in  the  unhappy  contest." 

This  so  enraged  Mr.  Genet,  that  he  threatened  to 
appsal  from  the  president  to  the  people  !  i.  e.  in 
plain  English,  to  try  to  overthrow  the  government  of 
the  United  States  !  ! 

But,  thank  God,  the  American  people  were  too 
wise  and  virtuous  to  hear  these  things  without  feeling 
and  expressing  a  suitable  indignation.  They  rallied 
around  their  beloved  president ;  and  soon  gave  this 
most  inconsiderate  stranger  to  understand,  that  he 
had  insulted  the  sacred  person  of  their  father. 

Washington  bore  this  insult  with  his  usual  good 
temper !  but  at  the  same  time  took  such  prudent 
measures  with  the  French  government,  that  Mr. 
Genet  was  quickly  recalled. 

Having  at  length  attained  the  acme  of  all  his 
wishes — having  lived  to  see  a  general  and  efficient 
government  adopted,  and  for  eight  years  in  success- 
ful operation,  exalting  his  country  from  the  brink  of 
infamy  and  ruin  to  the  highest  ground  of  prosperity 
and  honour,  both  at  home  and  abroad — abroad,  peace 
with  Britain — with  Spain — and,  some  slight  heart 
burnings  excepted,  peace  with  France,  and  with  all 
the  world  :  at  home,  peace  with  the  Indians — our 
shining  ploughshares  laying  open  the  best  treasures 
of  the  earth — our  ships  flying  over  every  sea — dis- 
tant nations  feeding  on  our  bread,  and  manufacturing 
our  staples — our  revenue  rapidly  increasing  with  our 
credit,  religion,  learning,  arts,  and  whatever  tends  to 
national  glory  and  happiness,  he  determined  to  lay 
down  that  load  of  public  care  which  he  had  borne 
so  long,  and  which,  now  in  his  66th  year,  he  found 
was  growing  too  heavy  for  him.  But  feeling 
towards  his  countryir^n  the  solicitude  of  a  father  for 
his  children,  over  whom  he  had  long  watched,  but 


"56  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

whom  he  was  about  to  leave  to  themselves ;  and 
fearing,  on  the  one  hand,  that  they  might  go  astray, 
and  hoping,  on  the  other,  that  from  his  long  labours 
of  love,  he  might  be  permitted  to  impart  the  counsels 
of  his  long  experience,  he  drew  up  for  them  a  fare- 
well address,  which  the  filial  piety  of  the  nation  has 
since  called  "  his  Legacy." 

As  this  little  piece,  about  the  length  of  an  ordinary 
sermon,  may  do  as  much  good  to  the  people  ot 
America  as  any  sermon  ever  preached,  that  Divine 
one  on  the  mount  excepted,  I  shall  offer  no  apology 
for  laying  it  before  them;  especially  as  I  well  know 
that  they  will  all  read  it  with  the  feelings  of  children 
reading  the  last  letter  of  a  once  loved  father  now  in 
his  grave.  And  who  knows  but  it  may  check  for 
a  while  the  fatal  flame  of  discord  which  has  destroy- 
ed all  the  once  glorious  republics  of  antiquity,  and 
here  now  at  length  in  the  United  States  has  caught 
upon  the  last  republic  that  is  left  on  the  face  of  the 
earth. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  197 

WASHINGTON'S  LAST  WORDS 

TO    THE    PEOPLE    OF   THK   UNITED   STATKI 

September,  1796, 

• Friends  and  Fellow  Citizens, 

"The  period  for  a  new  election  of  a  citizen,  to 
administer  the  executive  government  of  the  United 
States,  being  not  far  distant — and  the  time  actually 
arrived  when  your  thoughts  must  be  employed  in 
designating  the  person  who  is  to  be  clothed  with  that 
important  trust — it  appears  to  me  proper,  especially 
as  it  may  conduce  to  a  more  distinct  expression  of 
the  public  voice,  that  I  should  now  apprise  you  of 
the  resolution  I  have  formed,  to  decline  being  con- 
sidered among  the  number  of  those  out  of  whom  a 
choice  is  to  be  made. 

"  I  beg  you,  at  the  same  time,  to  do  me  the  justice 
to  be  assured,  that  this  resolution  has  not  been  taken 
without  a  strict  regard  to  all  the  considerations 
appertaining  to  the  relation  which  binds  a  dutiful 
citizen  to  his  country;  and  that,  in  withdrawing  the 
tender  of  service,  which  silence  in  my  situation  might 
imply,  I  am  influenced  by  no  diminution  of  zeal 
for  your  future  interest,  no  deficiency  of  grateful 
respect  for  your  past  kindness ;  but  am  supported 
by  a  full  conviction,  that  the  step  is  compatible  with 
both. 

"  The  acceptance  of,  and  continuance  hitherto  in, 
the  office  to  which  your  suffrages  have  twice  called 
me,  have  been  a  uniform  sacrifice  of  inclination  to 
the  opinion  of  duty,  and  to  a  deference  for  what 
appeared  to  be  your  desire.  I  constantly  hoped, 
that  it  would  have  been  much  earlier  in  my  power, 
consistently  with  motives  which  I  was  not  at  liberty 
14  13 


158  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

to  disregard,  to  return  to  that  retirement  from  which 

had  been  reluctantly  drawn.  The  strength  of  my 
inclination  to  do  this  previous  to  the  last  election, 
had  even  led  to  the  preparation  of  an  address  to 
declare  it  to  you.  But  mature  reflection  on  the  then 
perplexed  and  critical  posture  of  our  affairs  with 
foreign  nations,  and  the  unanimous  advice  of  persons 
entitled  to  my  confidence,  impelled  me  to  abandon 
the  idea. 

<'  I  rejoice  that  the  state  of  your  concerns,  external 
as  well  as  internal,  no  longer  renders  the  pursuit  of 
inclination  incompatible  with  the  sentiment  of  duty 
or  propriety ;  and  am  persuaded,  whatever  partiality 
may  be  retained  for  my  services,  that,  in  the  present 
circumstances  of  our  country,  you  will  not  disapprove 
my  determination  to  retire. 

"  The  impressions  with  which  I  first  undertook  the 
arduous  trust,  were  explained  on  the  proper  occa- 
sions. In  the  discharge  of  this  trust,  I  will  only  say, 
that  I  have,  with  good  intentions,  contributed  towards 
the  organization  and  administration  of  the  govern- 
ment, the  best  exertions  of  which  a  very  fallible 
judgment  was  capable.  Not  unconscious,  in  the 
outset,  of  the  inferiority  of  my  qualifications,  ex- 
perience in  my  own  eyes,  perhaps  still  more  in  the 
eyes  of  others,  has  strengthened  the  motives  to 
diffidence  of  myself :  and  every  day  the  increasing 
weight  of  years  admonishes  me  more  and  more  that 
the  shade  of  retirement  is  as  necessary  to  me  as  it 
will  be  welcome.  Satisfied  that  if  any  circumstances 
have  given  peculiar  value  to  my  services,  they 
were  temporary,  I  have  the  consolation  to  believe, 
that  while  choice  and  prudence  invite  me  to  quit  the 
political  scene,  patriotism  does  not  forbid  it. 

"  In  looking  forward  to  the  moment  which  is 
intended  to  terminate  the  career  of  my  public  life, 
my  feelings  do  not  permit  me  to  suspend  the  deep 
acknowledgment  of  that  debt  of  gratitude  which  I 
owe  to  my  beloved  country,  for  the  many  honours  it 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  159 

has  conferred  upon  me ;  still  more  for  the  steadfast 
confidence  with  which  it  has  supported  me  ;  and  for 
the  opportunities  I  have  thence  enjoyed  of  manifest- 
ing my  inviolable  attachment,  by  services  faithful 
and  persevering,  though  in  usefulness  unequal  to 
my  zeal.  If  benefits  have  resulted  to  our  country 
from  these  services,  let  it  always  be  remembered  to 
your  praise,  and  as  an  instructive  example  in  our 
annals,  that,  under  circumstances,  in  which  the 
passions,  agitated  in  every  direction,  were  liable  to 
mislead — amidst  appearances  sometimes  dubious — 
vicissitudes  of  fortune  often  discouraging — in  situa- 
tions in  which  not  unfrequently  want  of  success  has 
countenanced  the  spirit  of  criticism — the  constancy 
of  your  support  was  the  essential  prop  of  the  efforts, 
and  a  guarantee  of  the  plans  by  which  they  were 
effected.  Profoundly  penetrated  with  this  idea,  I 
shall  carry  it  with  me  to  my  grave,  as  a  strong 
incitement  to  unceasing  vows  that  Heaven  may 
continue  to  you  the  choicest  tokens  of  its  bene- 
ficence ;  that  your  union  and  brotherly  affection, 
may  be  perpetual ;  that  the  free  constitution,  which 
is  the  work  of  your  hands,  may  be  sacredly  main- 
tained ;  that  its  administration,  in  every  department, 
may  be  stamped  with  wisdom  and  virtue  ;  that,  in 
fine,  the  happiness  of  the  people  of  these  states, 
under  the  auspices  of  Heaven,  may  be  made  com- 
plete, by  so  careful  a  preservation  and  so  prudent 
a  use  of  liberty,  as  will  acquire  to  them  the  glory  of 
recommending  it  to  the  applause,  the  affection,  and 
the  adoption  of  every  nation  which  is  yet  a  stra:,ger 
to  it. 

"  Here,  perhaps,  I  ought  to  stop.  But  a  s'  acitude 
tor  your  welfare,  which  cannot  end  but  witli  my  life, 
and  the  apprehension  of  danger,  natural  to  that  soli- 
citude, urge  me,  on  an  occasion  like  the  present,  to 
otfer  to  your  solemn  contemplation,  and  to  recom- 
mend to  your  frequent  review,  some  sentiments, 
which  are  the  result  of  much  reflection,  of  no  incon- 


160  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

siderabie  observation,  and  which  appear  to  me  all 
important  to  the  permanency  of  your  felicity  as  a 
people.  These  will  be  offered  to  you  with  the  more 
freedom,  as  you  can  only  see  in  them  the  disinterested 
warnings  of  a  parting  friend,  who  can  possibly  have 
no  personal  motive  to  bias  his  counsel.  Nor  can  I 
forget,  as  an  encouragement  to  it,  your  indulgent 
reception  of  my  sentiments  on  a  former  and  not 
dissimilar  occasion. 

"  Interwoven  as  is  the  love  of  liberty  with  every 
ligament  of  your  hearts,  no  recommendation  of  mine 
is  necessary  to  fortify  or  confirm  the  attachment. 

"  The  unity  of  government,  which  constitutes  you 
one  people,  is  also  now  dear  to  you.  It  is  justly  so ; 
for  it  is  a  main  pillar  in  the  edifice  of  your  real  inde- 
pendence; the  support  of  your  tranquillity  at  home, 
your  peace  abroad  ;  of  your  safety ;  of  your  prospe- 
rity ;  of  that  very  liberty  which  you  so  highly  prize. 
But  as  it  is  easy  to  foresee,  that  from  different  causes, 
and  from  different  quarters,  much  pains  will  be  taken, 
many  artifices  employed,  to  weaken  in  your  minds 
the  conviction  of  this  truth ;  as  this  is  the  point  in 
your  political  fortress,  against  which  the  batteries  of 
internal  and  external  enemies  will  be  most  constantly 
and  actively  (though  often  covertly  and  insidiously) 
directed ;  it  is  of  infinite  moment,  that  you  should 
properly  estimate  the  immense  value  of  your  national 
union,  to  your  collective  and  individual  happiness  ; 
that  you  should  cherish  a  cordial,  habitual,  and  im- 
moveable  attachment  to  it ;  accustoming  yourselves 
to  think  and  speak  of  it  as  of  the  palladium  of  your 
political  safety  and  prosperity  ;  watching  for  its  pre- 
servation with  jealous  anxiety;  discountenancing 
whatever  may  suggest  even  a  suspicion  that  it  can 
in  any  event  be  abandoned ;  and  indignantly  frown- 
ing upon  the  first  dawning  of  every  attempt  to  alien 
any  portion  of  our  country  from  the  rest,  or  to  en- 
feeble the  sacred  ties  which  now  link  together  tho 
various  parts. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  16; 

"  For  this  you  have  every  inducement  of  sympathy 
and  interest.     Citizens,  by  birth  or  choice,  of  a  com 
mon  country,  that  country  has  a  right  to  concentrate 
your  atfections.     The  name  of  AMERICAN,  which  be 
longs  to  you  in  your  national  capacity,  must  alway 
exa  t  the  just  pride  of  patriotism,  more  than  any  ap- 
pel.ation  derived  from  local  discriminations.     With 
slight  shades  of  difference,  you  have  the  same  reli- 
gion, manners,  habits  and  political  principles.     You 
have,  in  a  common  cause,  fought  and  triumphed  to- 
gether.    The  independence  and  liberty  you  possess 
are  the  work  of  joint  councils,  and  joint  efforts — of 
common  dangers,  sufferings  and  successes. 

"But  these  considerations,  however  powerfully 
they  address  themselves  to  your  sensibility,  are 
greatly  outweighed  by  those  which  apply  more  im- 
mediately to  your  interest.  Here  every  poition  of 
our  country  finds  the  most  commanding  motives  for 
carefully  guarding  and  preserving  the  union  of  the 
whole. 

"  The  NORTH,  in  an  unrestrained  intercourse  with 
the  SOUTH,  protected  by  the  equal  laws  of  a  common 
government,  finds  in  the  productions  of  the  latter, 
great  additional  resources  of  maritime  and  commer- 
cial enterprize,  and  precious  materials  of  manufac- 
turing industry.  The  SOUTH,  in  the  same  intercourse 
benefiting  by  the  agency  of  the  NORTH,  sees  its  agri- 
culture grow,  and  its  commerce  expand.  Turning 
partly  into  its  own  channels  the  seamen  of  the  NORTH, 
it  finds  its  particular  navigation  invigorated :  and 
while  it  contributes,  in  different  ways,  to  nourish  and 
Increase  the  general  mass  of  the  national  navigation, 
it  looks  forward  to  the  protection  of  a  maritime 
strength,  to  which  itself  is  unequally  adapted. — The 
EAST,  in  a  like  intercourse  with  the  WEST,  already 
finds,  and  in  the  progressive  improvement  of  interior 
communications,  by  land  and  water,  will  more  and 
more  find  a  valuable  vent  lor  the  commodities  which 
it  brings  from  abroad,  or  manufactures  at  home. — 
H*  13* 


163  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

The  WEST  derives  from  the  EAST  supplies  requisite 
to  its  growth  and  comfort :  and  what  is,  perhaps,  of 
still  greater  consequence,  it  must  of  necessity  owe 
the  SECURE  enjoyment  of  indispensible  OUTLETS  for 
its  own  productions,  to  the  weight,  influence,  and 
the  future  maritime  strength  of  the  Atlantic  side  of 
the  Union,  directed  by  an  indissoluble  community  of 
interest,  as  ONE  NATION.  Any  other  tenure,  by  which 
the  WEST  can  hold  this  essential  advantage,  whether 
derived  from  its  own  separate  strength,  or  from  an 
apostate  and  unnatural  connexion  with  any  foreign 
power  must  be  intrinsically  precarious. 

"  While  then  every  part  of  our  country  thus  feels 
an  immediate  and  particular  interest  in  union,  all  the 
parties  combined  cannot  fail  to  find,  in  the  united 
mass  of  means  and  efforts,  greater  strength,  greater 
resources,  proportionably  greater  security  from  exter- 
nal danger,  a  less  frequent  interruption  of  their  peace 
by  foreign  nations.  And,  what  is  of  inestimable 
value,  they  must  derive  from  union  an  exemption 
from  those  broils  and  wars  between  themselves, 
which  so  frequently  afflict  neighbouring  countries, 
not  tied  together  by  the  same  government ;  which 
their  own  rivalships  alone  would  be  sufficient  to  pro- 
duce, but  which  opposite  foreign  alliances,  attach- 
ments, and  intrigues,  would  stimulate  and  embitter. 
Hence,  likewise,  they  will  avoid  the  necessity  of 
those  overgrown  military  establishments,  which 
under  any  form  of  government,  are  inauspicious  to 
liberty ;  and  which  are  to  be  regarded  as  particularly 
hostile  to  republican  liberty.  In  this  sense  it  is,  that 
your  union  ought  to  be  considered  as  a  main  prop  of 
your  liberty,  and  that  the  love  of  the  one  ought  to 
endear  to  you  the  preservation  of  the  other. 

"  These  considerations  speak  A  persuasive  language 
to  every  reflecting  and  virtuous  mind ;  and  exhibit 
the  continuance  of  the  UNION  as  a  primary  object  of 
patriotic  desire.  Is  there  a  doubt,  whether  a  common 
government  can  embrace  so  large  a  sphere.  Let 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  163 

experience  solve  it.  To  listen  to  mere  speculation 
in  such  a  case  were  criminal.  We  are  authorised  to 
hope  that  a  proper  organization  of  the  whole,  with 
the  auxiliary  agency  of  governments  for  the  respective 
subdivisions,  will  afford  a  happy  issue  to  the  experi- 
ment. 'Tis  well  worth  a  fair  and  full  experiment. 
With  such  powerful  and  obvious  motives  to  union, 
affecting  all  parts  of  our  country,  while  experience 
shall  not  have  demonstrated  its  impracticability,  there 
will  always  be  reason  to  distrust  the  patriotism  of 
those,  who  in  any  quarter  may  endeavor  to  weaken 
its  bands. 

"  In  contemplating  the  causes  which  may  disturb 
our  union,  it  occurs,  as  a  matter  of  serious  concern, 
that  any  ground  should  have  been  furnished  for  cha- 
racterizing parties  by  geographical  discriminations — 
northern  and  southern — atlanticand  western ;  whence 
designing  men  may  endeavor  to  excite  a  belief,  that 
there  is  a  real  difference  of  local  interests  and  views. 
One  of  the  expedients  of  party  to  acquire  influence, 
within  particular  districts,  is  to  misrepresent  the 
opinions  and  aims  of  other  districts.  You  cannot 
shield  yourselves  too  much  against  the  jealousies 
and  heart-burnings  which  spring  from  these  misre- 
presentations. They  tend  to  render  alien  to  each 
other,  those  who  ought  to  be  bound  together  by  fra- 
ternal affection.  The  inhabitants  of  our  western 
country  have  lately  had  a  useful  lesson  on  this  head. 
They  have  seen,  in  the  negociation  by  the  executive, 
and  in  the  unanimous  ratification  by  the  senate,  of 
the  treaty  with  Spain,  and  in  the  universal  satisfac- 
tion at  that  event  throughout  the  United  States,  a 
decisive  proof  how  unfounded  were  the  suspicions 
propagated  among  them,  of  a  policy  in  the  general 
government,  and  in  the  Atlantic  States,  unfriendly  to 
their  interest  in  regard  to  the  Mississippi.  They 
have  been  witnesses  to  the  formation  of  two  treaties, 
that  with  Great-Britain,  and  that  with  Spain,  which 
secure  to  them  every  thing  they  could  desire,  in 


164  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

respect  to  our  foreign  relations,  towards  confirming 
their  posterity.  Will  it  not  be  their  wisdom  to  rely 
for  the  preservation  of  these  advantages  on  the  union 
by  which  they  were  procured  ?  Will  they  not  hence 
forth  be  deaf  to  those  advisers,  if  such  there  are,  who 
would  sever  from  them  their  brethren,  and  connect 
*hem  with  aliens  ? 

"To  the  efficacy  and  permanency  of  your  union, 
a  government  for  the  whole  is  indispensable.  No  al- 
liances, however  strict,  between  the  parts,  can  be  an 
adequate  substitute.  They  must  inevitably  experience 
the  infractions  and  interruptions  which  all  alliances 
in  all  times  have  experienced.  Sensible  of  this  mo- 
mentous truth,  you  have  improved  upon  your  first 
essay,  by  the  adoption  of  a  constitution  of  govern- 
ment better  calculated  than  your  former,  for  an  inti- 
mate union,  and  for  the  efficacious  management  of 
your  common  concerns.  This  government,  the  off 
spring  of  your  own  choice,  uninfluenced  and  unawed, 
adopted  upon  full  investigation  and  mature  delibera- 
tion, completely  free  in  its  principles,  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  its  powers,  uniting  security  with  energy,  and 
containing  within  itself  a  provision  for  its  own 
amendment,  has  a  just  claim  to  your  confidence  and 
your  support.  Respect  for  its  authority,  compliance 
with  its  laws,  acquiescence  in  its  measures,  are  duties 
enjoined  by  the  fundamental  maxims  of  true  liberty. 
The  basis  of  our  political  systems  is  the  right  of  the 
people  to  make  and  alter  their  constitutions  of  gov- 
ernment. But  the  constitution  which  at  any  time 
exists,  till  changed  by  an  explicit  and  authentic  act 
of  the  whole  people,  is  sacredly  obligatory  upon  all. 
The  very  idea  of  the  power  and  the  right  of  the 
people  to  establish  government,  pre-supposes  the 
duty  of  ever/  individual  to  obey  the  established 
government. 

"  All  obstructions  to  the  execution  of  the  laws,  all 
combinations  and  associations,  under  whatever  plau 
sible  character,  with  a  real  design  to  direct,  control, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  165 

counteract,  or  awe  the  regular  deliberation  aw  I  action 
of  the  constituted  authorities,  are  destructive  of  this 
fundamental  principle,  and  of  fatal  tendency.  They 
serve  to  organize  faction ;  to  give  it  an  artificial  and 
extraordinary  force ;  to  put  in  the  place  of  the  dele- 
gated will  of  the  nation,  the  will  of  a  party,  often  a 
small,  but  artful  and  enterprising  minority  of  the 
community ;  and,  according  to  the  alternate  triumphs 
of  different  parties,  to  make  the  public  administration 
the  mirror  of  the  ill-concerted  and  incongruous  pro- 
jects of  faction,  rather  than  the  organ  of  consistent 
and  wholesome  plans,  digested  by  common  counsels, 
and  modified  by  mutual  interests. 

"  However  combinations  or  associations  of  the 
above  description  may  now  and  then  answer  popular 
ends,  they  are  likely,  in  the  course  of  time  and  things, 
to  become  potent  engines,  by  which  cunning,  ambi- 
tious, and  unprincipled  men  will  be  enabled  to  sub- 
vert the  power  of  the  people ;  and  to  usurp  to  them- 
selves the  reins  of  government ;  destroying  after- 
wards the  very  engines  which  have  lifted  them  to 
unjust  dominion. 

"  Towards  the  preservation  of  your  government, 
and  the  permanency  of  your  present  happy  state,  it 
is  requisite,  not  only  that  you  speedily  discountenance 
irregular  oppositions  to  its  acknowledged  authority, 
but  also  that  you  resist  with  care  the  spirit  of  inno- 
vation upon  its  principles,  however  specious  the 
pretexts.  One  method  of  assault  may  be  to  effect, 
in  the  forms  of  the  constitution,  alterations  which 
will  impair  the  energy  of  the  system ;  and  thus  to 
undermine  what  cannot  be  directly  overthrown.  In 
all  the  changes  to  which  you  may  be  invited,  remem- 
ber that  time  and  habit  are  at  least  as  necessary  to 
fix  the  true  character  of  government,  as  of  other  hu- 
man institutions;  that  experience  is  the  surest  stand- 
ard, by  which  to  test  the  real  tendency  of  the  existing 
constitution  of  a  country ;  that  facility  in  changes, 
upon  the  credit  of  mere  hypothesis  and  opnnon 


166  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

exposes  Jo  perpetual  change,  from  the  endless  variety 
of  hypothesis  and  opinion.  And  re  member,  especially, 
that  for  the  efficient  management  of  your  common 
interests,  in  a  country  so  extensive  as  ours,  a  govern- 
ment of  as  much  vigor  as  is  consistent  with  the 
perfect  security  of  liberty,  b  indispensable.  Liberty 
itself  will  find  in  such  a  government,  with  powers 
properly  distributed  and  adjusted,  its  surest  guardian. 
It  is,  indeed,  little  else  than  a  name,  where  the  gov- 
ernment is  too  feeble  to  withstand  the  enterprises  of 
faction ;  to  confine  each  member  of  the  society  within 
the  limits  prescribed  by  the  laws;  and  to  maintain 
all  in  the  secure  arid  tranquil  enjoyment  of  the  rights 
of  person  and  property. 

"  I  have  already  intimated  to  you  the  danger  of 
the  parties  in  the  state,  with  particular  reference  to 
the  founding  of  them  on  geographical  discriminations. 
Let  me  now  take  a  more  comprehensive  view,  and 
warn  you  in  the  most  solemn  manner  against  the 
baneful  effects  of  the  spirit  of  party,  generally. 

"This  spirit,  unfortunately,  is  inseparable  from 
our  nature,  having  its  root  in  the  strongest  passions 
of  the  human  mind.  It  exists  under  different  shapes 
in  all  governments,  more  or  less  stifled,  controlled,  or 
repressed.  But  in  those  of  the  popular  form,  it  is  seen 
in  its  greatest  rankness;  and  is  truly  their  worst 
enemy. 

"The  alternate  dominion  of  one  faction  over 
another,  sharpened  by  the  spirit  of  revenge  natural 
to  party  dissention,  which,  in  different  ages  and 
countries,  has  perpetrated  the  most  horrid  enormities, 
is  itself  frightful  despotism.  But  this  leads  at  length 
to  a  formal  and  permanent  despotism.  The  disorders 
and  miseries  which  result,  gradually  incline  the  minds 
of  men  to  seek  security  and  repose  in  the  absolute 
power  of  an  individual.  And,  sooner  or  later,  the 
chief  of  some  prevailing  faction,  more  able  or  more 
fortunate  than  his  competitors,  turns  this  disposition 
to  the  purposes  of  his  own  elevation,  oa  the  juins  oi 
public  liberty. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  IG'' 

'<  Without  looking  forward  to  an  extremity  of  tluo 
kind  (which,  nevertheless,  ought  not  to  be  entirely 
our  of  sight,)  the  common  and  continual  mischiefs  of 
the  spirit  of  party  are  sufficient  to  make  it  the  interest 
and  duty  of  a  wise  people  to  discourage  and  restrain  it 

"  It  serves  always  to  distract  the  public  councils, 
and  enfeeble  the  public  administration.  It  agitates 
the  community  with  ill  founded  jealousies  and  false 
alarms;  kindles  the  animosity  of  one  part  against 
another ;  foments  occasionally  riot  and  insurrection ; 
and  opens  the  door  to  foreign  influence  and  corrup- 
tion, which  find  a  facilitated  access  to  the  government 
itself  through  the  channels  of  party  passions.  Thus 
the  policy  and  will  of  one  country  are  subjected  to 
the  policy  and  will  of  another. 

"  There  is  an  opinion  that  parties  in  free  countries 
are  useful  checks  upon  the  administration  of  the  gov- 
ernment, and  serve  to  keep  alive  the  spirit  of  liberty. 
This,  within  certain  limits,  is  probably  true,  and,  in 
governments  of  a  monarchical  cast,  patriotism  may 
look  with  indulgence,  if  not  with  favor,  upon  the 
spirit  of  party.  But  in  those  of  the  popular  character, 
in  governments  purely  elective,  it  is  a  spirit  not  to  be 
encouraged.  From  their  natural  tendency,  it  is  cer- 
tain there  will  always  be  enough  of  this  spirit  for 
every  salutary  purpose.  And  there  being  constant 
danger  of  excess,  the  effort  ought  to  be,  by  force  of 
public  opinion,  to  mitigate  and  assuage  it.  A  fire 
not  to  be  quenched,  it  demands  a  uniform  vigilance 
to  prevent  its  bursting  into  a  flame,  lest,  instead  of 
wanning,  it  should  consume. 

"  It  is  important,  likewise,  that  the  habits  of  think- 
ing in  a  free  country  should  inspire  caution,  in  those 
entrusted  with  its  administration,  to  confine  themsel- 
ves within  their  respective  constitutional  spheres, 
avoiding,  in  the  exercise  of  the  powers  of  one  depart- 
ment, to  encroach  upon  another.  The  spirit  of  en~ 
?,roachm<  nt  tends  to  consolidate  the  powers  of  all  the 
departments  in  one,  and  thus  to  create,  whatever  the 


l«8  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

form  of  government,  a  real  despotism.  A  just  esti- 
mate of  that  love  of  power,  and  proneness  to  abuse 
it,  which  predominates  in  the  human  heart,  is  suffi- 
cient to  satisfy  us  of  the  truth  of  this  position.  The 
necessity  of  reciprocal  checks,  in  the  exercise  of  poli- 
tical power,  by  dividing  and  distributing  it  into  dif- 
ferent depositories,  and  constituting  each  the  guardian 
of  public  weal  against  invasions  by  the  others,  has 
been  evinced  by  experiments  ancient  and  modern : 
some  of  them  in  our  country,  and  under  our  own 
eyes.  To  preserve  them  must  be  as  necessary  as  to 
institute  them.  If,  in  the  opinion  of  the  people,  the 
distribution  or  modification  of  the  constitutional  pow- 
ers be  in  any  particular  wrong,  let  it  be  corrected  bv 
an  amendment  in  the  way  which  the  constitution 
designates.  But  let  there  be  no  change  by  usurpa- 
tion ;  for  though  this,  in  one  instance,  may  be  the 
instrument  of  good,  it  is  the  customary  weapon  by 
which  free  governments  are  destroyed.  The  precedent 
must  always  greatly  overbalance,  in  permanent  evil, 
any  partial  or  transient  benefit  which  the  use  can  at 
any  time  yield. 

"  Of  all  the  dispositions  and  habits  which  lead  to 
political  prosperity,  religion  and  morality  are  indis- 
pensable supports.  In  vain  would  that  man  claim 
the  tribute  of  patriotism,  who  should  labor  to  sub- 
vert these  great  pillars  of  human  happiness,  these 
firmest  props  of  the  duties  of  men  and  citizens.  The 
mere  politician,  equally  with  the  pious  man,  ought 
to  respect  and  to  cherish  them.  A  volume  could  not 
trace  all  their  connexions  with  private  and  public 
felicity.  Let  it  be  simply  asked,  where  is  the  security 
for  property,  for  reputation,  for  life,  if  the  sense  of 
religious  obligations  desert  the  oaths,  which  are  the 
instruments  of  investigation  in  the  courts  of  justice  ? 
And  let  us  with  caution  indulge  the  supposition,  that 
morality  can  he  obtained  without  religion.  What- 
ever may  be  conceded  to  the  influence  of  refined  edu- 
cation on  minds  of  peculiar  structure,  reason  and  ej 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  16* 

perience  both  forbid  us  to  expect  that  national  moral- 
ity can  prevail  in  exclusion  of  religious  principle. 

•<  'Tis  substantially  true,  that  virtue  or  morality  is 
a  necessary  spring  of  popular  government.  The  rule 
indeed  extends  with  more  or  less  force  to  every  spe- 
cies of  free  government.  Who  that  is  a  sincere 
friend  to  it  can  look  with  indifference  upon  at- 
tempts to  shake  the  foundation  of  the  fabric  ? 

"  Promote,  then,  as  an  object  of  primary  import- 
ance, institutions  for  the  general  diffusion  of  know 
ledge.     In  proportion  as  the  structure  of  a  govern- 
ment gives  force  to  public  opinion,  it  is  essential  that 
public  opinion  should  be  enlightened. 

"  As  a  very  important  source  of  strength  and  se- 
curity, cherish  public  credit.  One  method  of  preserv 
ing  it,  is  to  use  it  as  sparingly  as  possible ;  avoiding 
occasions  of  expense  by  cultivating  peace ;  but  re- 
membering also  that  timely  disbursements  to  prepare 
for  danger  frequently  prevent  much  greater  disburse- 
ments to  repel  it ,  avoiding  likewise  the  accumula- 
tions of  debt,  not  only  by  shunning  occasions  of 
expense,  but  by  vigorous  exertions,  in  time  of  peace, 
to  discharge  the  debts  which  unavoidable  wars  may 
have  occasioned;  not  ungenerously  throwing  upon 
posterity  the  burden  which  we  ourselves  ought  to 
bear.  The  execution  of  these  maxims  belongs  to 
your  representatives;  but  it  is  necessary  that  public 
opinion  should  co-operate.  To  facilitate  to  them  the 
performance  of  their  duty,  it  is  essential  that  you 
should  practically  bear  in  mind,  that  towards  the  pay- 
ment of  debts  there  must  be  revenue ;  that  to  have 
revenue  there  must  be  taxes ;  that  no  taxes  can  be 
devised  which  are  not  more  or  less  inconvenient  and 
unpleasant;  that  the  intrinsic  embarrassment  inse- 
parable from  the  selection  of  the  proper  object  (which 
is  always  a  choice  of  difficulties)  ought  to  be  a  deci- 
sive motive  for  a  candid  construction  of  the  conduct 
of  the  government  in  making  it,  and  for  a  spirit  oi 

15  14 


170  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

acquiescence  in  the  measures  for  obtaining  revenue, 
which  the  public  exigencies  may  at  any  time  dictate. 

"  Observe  good  faith  and  justice  towards  all  na- 
tions ;  cultivate  peace  and  harmony  with  all.  Reli- 
gion and  morality  enjoin  this  conduct :  and  can  it  be 
that  good  policy  does  not  equally  enjoin  it  ?  It  will  be 
worthy  of  a  free,  enlightened,  and  at  no  distant  period 
a  great  nation,  to  give  to  mankind  the  magnanimous 
and  too  novel  example  of  a  people  always  guided  by 
an  exalted  justice  and  benevolence.  Who  can  doubt 
that  in  the  course  of  time  and  things,  the  fruits  of 
such  a  plan  would  richly  repay  any  temporary  ad- 
vantages which  might  be  lost  by  a  steady  adherence 
to  it.  Can  it  be,  that  Providence  has  not  connected 
the  permanent  felicity  of  a  nation  with  its  virtue  ? 
The  experiment,  at  least,  is  recommended  by  every 
sentiment  which  ennobles  human  nature.  Alas !  is 
it  rendered  impossible  by  its  vices  ? 

"  In  the  execution  of  such  a  plan,  nothing  is  more 
essential  than  that  permanent,  inveterate  antipathies 
against  particular  nations,  and  passionate  attachments 
f3r  others,  should  be  excluded ;  and  that  in  place  of 
them  just  and  amicable  feelings  towards  all  should 
be  cultivated.  The  nation  which  indulges  towards 
another  an  habitual  hatred,  or  an  habitual  fondness, 
is  in  some  degree  a  slave.  It  is  a  slave  to  its  ani- 
mosity or  to  its  affection,  either  of  which  is  sufficient 
to  lead  it  astray  from  its  duty  and  its  interest.  Anti- 
pathy in  one  nation  against  another  disposes  each 
more  readily  to  offer  insult  and  injury  ;  to  lay  hold 
of  slight  causes  of  umbrage ;  and  to  be  haughty  and 
intractable,  when  accidental  or  trifling  occasions  of 
dispute  occur.  Hence  frequent  collisions,  obstinate, 
envenomed,  and  bloody  contests.  The  nation, 
prompted  by  ill-will  and  resentment,  sometimes 
impels  to  war  the  government,  contrary  to  the  besf 
calculations  of  policy.  The  government  sometimes 
p^ucipa'es  in  the  national  propensity ;  and  adopts, 
passion,  what  reason  would  reject.  At  ")t.her 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  171 

times,  it  makes  the  animosity  of  the  nation  subser- 
vient to  projects  of  hostility,  instigated  by  pride,  am- 
bition, and  other  sinister  and  pernicious  motives. 
The  peace  often,  sometimes  perhaps  the  liberty,  of 
nations  has  been  the  victim. 

"  So,  likewise,  a  passionate  attachment  of  one  na 
tion  for  another  produces  a  variety  of  evils.  Sympa- 
thy for  the  favorite  nation,  facilitating  the  illusion  of 
an  imaginary  common  interest,  in  cases  where  no 
real  common  interest  exists,  and  infusing  into  one  the 
enmities  of  the  other,  betrays  the  former  into  a  par- 
ticipation in  the  quarrels  and  wars  of  the  latter,  with- 
out adequate  inducement  or  justification.  It  leads 
also  to  concessions  to  the  favorite  nation,  of  privileges 
denied  to  others,  which  is  apt  doubly  to  injure  the 
nation,  making  the  concessions;  by  unnecessarily 
parting  with  what  ought  to  have  been  retained  ;  and 
by  exciting  jealousy,  ill-will,  and  a  disposition  to 
retaliate,  in  the  parties  from  whom  equal  privileges 
are  withheld.  And  it  gives  to  ambitious,  corrupted, 
or  deluded  citizens  (who  devote  themselves  to  the 
favourite  nation)  facility  to  betray  or  sacrifice  the 
interests  of  their  own  country,  without  odium,  some- 
times even  with  popularity ;  gilding,  with  the  appear- 
ances of  a  virtuous  sense  of  obligation,  a  commend- 
able deference  for  public  opinion,  or  a  laudable  zeal 
for  public  good,  the  base  or  foolish  compliances  of 
ambition,  corruption,  or  infatuation. 

"  As  avenues  to  foreign  influence  in  innumerable 
ways,  such  attachments  are  particularly  alarming  to 
the  truly  enlightened  and  independent  patriot.  How 
many  opportunities  do  they  afford  to  tamper  with 
domestic  factions  ;  to  practise  the  arts  of  seduction  ; 
to  mislead  public  opinion ;  to  influence  or  awe  the 
public  councils !  Such  an  attachment  of  a  small  or 
weak,  towards  a  great  and  pov/erful  nation,  dooms 
the  former  to  be  the  satellite  of  the  latter. 

"  Against  the  insidious  wiles  of  foreign  influence 
^1  conjure  you  to  believe  me,  fellow-citizens)  the 
jealousy  of  a  free  people  ought  to  be  CONSTANTLY 


i72  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

awake ;  since  history  and  experience  prove  that 
foreign  influence  is  one  of  the  most  baneful  foes  of 
republican  government.  But  that  jealousy,  to  be 
useful,  must  be  impartial ;  else  it  becomes  the  instru- 
ment of  the  very  influence  to  be  avoided,  instead  of 
a  defence  against  it.  Excessive  partiality  for  one 
foreign  nation,  and  excessive  dislike  of  another,  cause, 
those  whom  they  actuate,  to  see  danger  only  on  one 
side ;  and  serve  to  veil  and  even  second  the  arts  of 
influence  on  the  other.  Real  patriots,  who  may 
resist  the  intrigues  of  the  favorite,  are  liable  to  become 
suspected  and  odious,  while  its  fools  and  dupes  usurp 
the  applause  and  confidence  of  the  people,  to  sur- 
render their  interests. 

"  The  great  rule  of  conduct  for  us,  in  regard  to 
foreign  nations,  is,  in  extending  our  commercial  rela- 
tions, to  have  with  them  as  little  POLITICAL  connexion 
as  possible.  So  far  as  we  have  already  formed  en- 
gagements, let  them  be  fulfilled  with  perfect  good 
faith.  Here  let  us  stop. 

"  Europe  has  a  set  of  primary  interests,  which  to 
us  have  none,  or  a  very  remote  relation.  Hence  she 
must  be  engaged  in  frequent  controversies,  the 
causes  of  which  are  essentially  foreign  to  our  concerns 
Hence,  therefore,  it  must  be  unwise  in  us  to  implicate 
ourselves,  by  artificial  ties,  in  the  ordinary  vicissitudes 
of  her  politics,  or  the  ordinary  combinations  and  colli- 
sions of  her  friendships  or  enmities. 

"  Our  detached  and  distant  situation  invites  and 
enables  us  to  pursue  a  different  course.  If  we  remaih 
one  people,  under  an  efficient  government,  the  period 
is  not  far  off,  when  we  may  defy  material  injury  from 
external  annoyance ;  when  we  may  take  such  an 
attitude  as  will  cause  the  neutrality,  we  may  at  any 
time  resolve  upon,  to  be  scrupulously  respected  ; 
when  belligerent  nations,  under  the  impossibility  of 
making  acquisitions  upon  us,  will  not  lightly  hazard 
the  giving  us  provocations ;  when  we  may  choose 
peace  or  war,  as  our  interest,  guided  by  justice,  shall 
counsel. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  173 

"  Why  forego  the  advantages  of  so  peculiar  a  situa- 
tion ?  Why  quit  our  own,  to  stand  upon  foreign 
ground  ?  Why,  by  interweaving  our  destiny  with 
that  of  any  part  of  Europe,  entangle  our  peace  and 
prosperity  in  the  toils  of  European  ambition,  rivaJ- 
ship,  interest,  humour,  or  caprice  ? 

u  'Tis  our  true  policy  to  steer  clear  of  permanent 
alliances,  with  any  portion  of  the  foreign  world  ;  so 
far,  I  mean,  as  we  are  now  at  liberty  to  do  it ;  for  let 
me  not  be  understood  as  capable  of  patronising  in- 
fidelity to  existing  engagements.  I  hold  the  maxim 
no  less  applicable  to  public  than  to  private  affairs, 
that  honesty  is  always  the  best  policy.  I  repeat  it, 
therefore,  let  those  engagements  be  observed  in  their 
genuine  sense.  But,  in  my  opinion,  it  is  unnecessary, 
and  would  be  unwise,  to  extend  them. 

"  Taking  care  always  to  keep  ourselves,  by  suitable 
establishments,  in  a  respectable  defensive  posture, 
we  may  safely  trust  to  temporary  alliances  for  extra- 
ordinary emergencies. 

"Harmony  and  a  liberal  intercourse  with  all  nations, 
are  recommended  by  policy,  humanity,  and  interest. 
But  even  our  commercial  policy  should  hold  an  equal 
and  impartial  hand ;  neither  seeking  nor  granting 
exclusive  favors  or  preferences;  consulting  the  natural 
course  of  things ;  diffusing  and  diversifying  by  gentle 
means  the  streams  of  commerce,  but  forcing  nothing ; 
establishing,  (with  powers  so  disposed,  in  order  to 
give  trade  a  stable  course,  to  define  the  rights  of  our 
merchants,  and  to  enable  the  government  to  support 
them,)  conventional  rules  of  intercourse,  the  best  that 
present  circumstances  and  mutual  opinion  will  permit, 
but  temporary,  and  liable  to  be  from  time  to  time 
abandoned  or  varied, as  experience  and  circumstances 
shall  dictate  ;  constantly  keeping  in  view,  that  it  is 
folly  in  one  nation  to  look  for  disinterested  favors 
from  another  ;  that  it  must  pay  with  a  portion  of  its 
independence,  for  whatever  it  may  accept  under  that 
tharacter;  that,  by  such  acceptance,  it  may  place 
15*  14* 


174  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

itself  in  the  condition  of  having  given  equivalents  for 
nominal  favors,  and  yet  of  being  reproached  with 
ingratitude  for  not  giving  more.  There  can  be  no 
greater  error  than  to  expect  or  calculate  upon  real 
favors  from  nation  to  nation.  It  is  an  illusion  which 
experience  must  cure,  which  a  just  pride  ought  to 
discard. 

"  In  offering  to  you,  my  countrymen,  these  coun- 
sels of  an  old  and  affectionate  friend,  I  dare  not  hope 
they  will  make  the  strong  and  lasting  impression  I 
could  wish  ;  that  they  will  control  the  usual  current 
of  the  passions,  or  prevent  our  nation  from  running 
the  course  which  has  hitherto  marked  the  destiny  of 
nations  !  but,  if  I  may  even  flatter  myself,  that  they 
may  be  productive  of  some  partial  benefit,  some  oc- 
casional good ;  that  they  may  now  and  then  recur  to 
moderate  the  fury  of  party  spirit ;  to  warn  against 
the  mischiefs  of  foreign  intrigue  ;  to  guard  against 
the  impostures  of  pretended  patriotism;  this  hope 
will  be  a  full  recompense  for  the  solicitude  for  your 
welfare,  by  which  they  have  been  dictated. 

"  How  far,  in  the  discharge  of  my  official  duties,  I 
have  been  guided  by  the  principles  which  have  been 
delineated,  the  public  records  and  other  evidences  of 
my  conduct  must  witness  to  you  and  to  the  world. 
To  myself,  the  assurance  of  my  own  conscience  is, 
that  I  have,  at  least,  believed  myself  to  be  guided  by 
them. 

"  In  relation  to  the  still  subsisting  wur  in  Europe, 
my  proclamation  of  the  22nd  of  April,  1793,  is  the 
index  to  my  plan.  Sanctioned  by  your  approving 
voice,  and  by  that  of  your  representatives  in  both 
houses  of  congress,  the  spirit  of  that  measure  has 
continually  governed  me,  uninfluenced  by  any  at- 
tempts to  deter  or  divert  me  from  it. 

"  After  deliberate  examination,  with  the  aid  of  the 
best  lights  I  could  obtain,  I  was  well  satisfied  that 
our  country,  under  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case, 
had  a  right  to  take,  and  was  bound  in  duty  an/1 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  175 

interest  to  take,  a  neutral  position.  Having  taken  it, 
I  determined,  as  far  as  should  depend  upon  me,  to 
maintain  it  with  moderation,  perseverance  and  firm 
ness. 

"  The  considerations  which  respect  the  right  to 
hold  this  conduct,  it  is  not  necessary  on  this  occasion 
to  detail.  I  will  only  observe,  that  according  to  my 
understanding  of  the  matter,  that  right,  so  far  from 
being  denied  by  any  of  the  belligerent  powers,  has 
been  virtually  admitted  by  all. 

"  The  duty  of  holding  a  neutral  conduct  may  be 
inferred,  without  any  thing  more,  from  the  obligation 
which  justice  and  humanity  impose  on  every  nation, 
in  cases  in  which  it  is  free  to  act,  to  maintain  in- 
violate the  relations  of  peace  and  amity  towards 
other  nations. 

"  The  inducements  of  interest  for  observing  that 
conduct  will  best  be  referred  to  your  own  reflections 
and  experience.  With  me,  a  predominant  motive 
has  been  to  endeavour  to  gain  time  to  our  country 
to  settle  and  mature  its  yet  recent  institutions,  and 
to  progress  without  interruption  to  that  degree  ot 
strength  and  consistency,  which  is  necessary  to  give 
it,  humanly  speaking,  the  command  of  its  own 
fortunes. 

"  Though,  in  reviewing  the  incidents  of  my 
administration,  I  am  unconscious  of  intentional 
error,  I  am  nevertheless  too  sensible  of  my  defects, 
not  to  think  it  probable  that  I  may  have  committed 
many  errors.  Whatever  they  may  be,  I  fervently 
beseech  the  Almighty  to  avert  or  mitigate  the  evils 
to  which  they  may  tend.  I  shall  also  carry  with  me 
the  hope  that  my  country  will  never  cease  to  view 
them  with  indulgence ;  and  that,  after  forty-five 
years  of  my  life  dedicated  to  its  service,  with  an  up- 
right zeal,  the  faults  of  incompetent  abilities  will  be 
consigned  to  oblivion,  as  myself  must  soon  be  to  the 
mansions  of  rest 

"  Relying  on  its  kindness  in  this  as  in  other  things, 


176  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

and  actuated  by  that  fervent  love  towards  it,  which 
is  so  natural  to  a  man,  who  views  in  it  the  native* 
soil  of  himself  and  his  progenitors  for  several  gener- 
ations, 1  anticipate  with  pleasing  expectation  tha* 
retreat,  in  which  I  promise  myself  to  realize,  without 
alloy,  the  sweet  enjoyment  of  partaking,  in  the  midst 
of  my  fellow  citizens,  the  benign  influence  of  good 
laws  under  a  free  government — the  ever  favourite 
object  of  my  heart,  and  the  happy  re  ward,  as  I  trust, 
of  our  mutual  cause,  labours  and  dangers. 

G.  WASHINGTON 
"  United  States,     > 
21th  Sept.,  1796."  5 

The  appearance  of  this  address  in  the  gazettes  of 
the  United  States,  struck  every  where  a  damp  on  the 
spirits  of  the  people.  To  be  thus  bidden  farewell  by 
one  to  whom,  in  every  time  of  danger,  they  had  so 
long  and  so  fondly  looked  up,  as,  under  God,  their 
surest  and  safest  friend,  could  not  but  prove  to  them 
a  grievous  shock.  Indeed  many  could  not  refrain 
from  tears,  especially  when  they  came  to  that  part 
where  he  talked  of  being  soon  to  be  "consigned  to 
the  mansions  of  rest." 

During  the  next  and  last  session  that  he  ever  met 
congress,  which  began  on  the  7th  of  December, 
1796,  he  laboured  hard  to  induce  that  honourable 
body  instantly  to  set  about  the  following  public 
works,  which,  to  him,  appeared  all  important  to  the 
nation. 

1st.  Societies  and  institutions  for  the  improvement 
of  agriculture. 

2d.   A  navy. 

3d.  A  military  Academy. 

4th.  A  manufactory  of  arms. 

5th.  A  national  university. 

On  the  4th  of  March,  1797,  he  took  his  last  leave 
of  Philadelphia.  Having  ever  been  an  enlightened 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  17~ 

and  virtuous  republican,  who  deems  it  the  first  of 
duties  to  honour  the  man  whom  the  majority  of  his 
countrymen  had  chosen  to  honour,  Washington  could 
not  think  of  going  away,  until  he  had  first  paid  his 
respects  to  the  man  of  their  choice.  It  was  this  that 
retarded  his  journey — it  was  this  that  brought  him 
to  the  senate  chamber. 

About  eleven  o'clock,  while  the  member?  of  con- 
gress, with  numbers  of  the  first  characters,  were 
assembled  in  the  senate  hall,  anxiously  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  Mr.  Adams,  a  modest  rap  was  heard  at 
the  door.  Supposing  it  to  be  the  president  elect,  the 
attention  of  all  was  turned  to  the  entry,  when  lo  ! 
instead  of  Mr.  Adams  and  his  suite,  who  should 
appear  but  the  honoured  and  beloved  form  of  Wash- 
ington, without  attendants,  and  in  his  plain  travelling 
dress.  Instantly  the  joy  of  filial  love  sprung  up  in 
all  hearts,  glowed  in  every  face  ;  and  bursted  forth 
in  involuntary  plaudits  from  every  tongue.  Present- 
ly Mr.  Adams  entered  with  his  attendants;  but  pass- 
ed on  in  a  great  measure  unnoticed.  The  father  of 
his  country  was  in  the  presence  of  his  children,  and 
perhaps  for  the  last  time  ;  who  then  could  divide  his 
attentions.  Riveted  on  his  face  was  every  glistening 
eye  ;  while  busy  memory,  flying  over  the  many  toils 
and  dangers  of  his  patriot  life,  gave  the  spectators  up 
to  those  delicious  thoughts  from  which  no  obtruder 
could  break  (hem  without  a  sigh. 

Having  just  waited  to  congratulate  Mr.  Adams  on 
his  inauguration,  and  very  heartily  to  pray  that  "his 
government  might  prove  a  great  joy  to  himself  and 
a  blessing  to  his  country,"  he  hastened  to  Mount  Ver- 
non  ;  to  close  in  peace  the  short  evening  of  this  labo- 
rious life  ;  and  to  wait  for  a  better,  even  for  that  "  rest 
which  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God." 

He  carried  with  him  the  most  fervent  prayers  of 
congress,  that  "  Heaven  would  pour  its  happies) 
sunshine  on  the  decline  of  his  days."  But  this  theii 
prayer  was  not  fully  answered.  On  the  contrary, 


i7S  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

with  respect  to  his  country,  at  least,  his  evening  sun 
went  down  under  a  cloud. 

The  French  directory,  engaged  in  a  furious  war 
with  England,  turned  to  America  for  aid.  But 
Washington,  wisely  dreading  the  effects  of  war  on 
his  young  repubiic,  and  believing  that  she  had  an 
unquestioned  right  to  neutrality,most  strictly  injoined 
it  on  his  people  by  proclamation.  This  so  enraged 
the  directory,  that  they  presently  gave  orders  to  theii 
cruizers,  to  seize  American  ships  on  the  high  seas — 
that  equal  path  which  God  had  spread  for  the  nations 
to  trade  on !  Washington  had  sent  out  general 
Charles  C.  Pinckney  to  remonstrate  against  such 
iniquitous  proceedings.  The  directory  would  not 
receive  him  !  but  still  continued  their  spoliations  on 
our  wide-spread  and  defenceless  commerce,  ruining 
numbers  of  innocent  families.  Still  determined, 
according  to  Washington's  advice,  "  so  to  act  as  to 
put  our  enemy  in  the  wrong,"  the  American  govern- 
ment dispatched  two  other  envoys,  Gen.  Marshall 
and  Elbridge  Gerry,  to  aid  Pinckney.  But  they  fared 
no  better.  Though  they  only  supplicated  for  peace ; 
though  they  only  prayed  to  be  permitted  to  make 
explanations,  they  were  still  kept  by  the  directory  at 
a  most  mortifying  distance  ;  and,  after  all,  were  told, 
that  America  was  not  to  look  for  a  single  smile  of 
reconciliation,  nor  even  a  word  on  that  subject,  until 
her  envoys  should  bring  large  tribute  in  their  hands ! ! 
This,  as  Washington  had  predicted,  instantly  evapo- 
rated the  last  drop  of  American  patience.  He  had 
always  said,  that  "  though  some  very  interested  or 
deluded  persons  were  much  too  fond  of  England  and 
France  to  value  America  as  they  ought ;  yet  he  was 
firmly  persuaded,  that  the  great  mass  of  the  people 
were  hearty  .overs  of  their  country ;  and,  as  soon  as 
their  eyes  were  open  to  the  grievous  injuries  done 
her,  would  assuredly  resent  them,  like  men,  to  whom 
God  had  given  strong  feelings,  on  purpose  to  guard 
their  rights.'* 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  179 

His  prediction  was  gloriously  verified  For,  on 
hearing  the  word  tribute,  the  American  envoys 
instantly  took  fire ! !  while  the  brave  Gen.  Pinckney , 
(a  revolutionary  soldier,  and  neither  Englishman  nor 
Frenchman,  but  a  true  American,)  indignantly  ex- 
claimed to  the  secretary  of  the  directory — "Tribute, 
sir  !  no,  sir!  the  Americans  pay  no  tribute  !  tell  the 
directory,  that  we  will  give  millions  for  defence,  but 
not  a  cent  for  tribute." 

Soon  as  this  demand  of  the  directory  was  told  in 
America,  the  glorious  spirit  of  '76  was  kindled  like 
a  flash  of  lightning,  from  St.  Mary's  to  Maine. 
"  What !"  said  the  people  every  where,  "  shall  we, 
shall  Americans !  who,  rather  than  pay  an  uncon- 
stitutional three-penny  tax  on  tea,  bravely  encounter- 
ed a  bloody  war  with  Britain,  now  tamely  yield  to 
France  to  beggar  us  at  pleasure  ?  No  !  Millions  for 
defence,  but  not  a  cent  for  tribute,"  was  nobly  rever- 
berated throughout  the  continent. 

War  being  now  fully  expected,  the  eyes  of  the 
nation  were  instantly  turned  towards  Washington,  tc 
head  her  armies  against  the  French.  He  readily 
consented  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  observed  that  there 
would  be  no  war.  "  The  directory,"  said  he, "  though 
mad  enough  to  do  almost  any  thing,  are  yet  not  quue 
so  mad  as  to  venture  an  attack,  when  they  shall  find 
that  the  spirit  of  the  nation  is  up."  The  event  showed 
the  usual  correctness  of  his  judgment ;  for,  on  discov- 
ering that  America,  though  very  willing  to  be  the 
sister,  had  no  notion  of  being  the  slave  of  France — on 
learning  that  Washington  was  roused,  and  the 
strength  of  the  nation  rallying  around  him — and  also 
that  the  American  tars,  led  on  by  the  gallant  Trux- 
ton,  had  spread  the  fiery  stars  of  liberty,  blasting  on 
every  sea  the  sickly  fleurs-de-luce,  of  gallic  piracy, 
the  directory  very  sagaciously  signified  a  disposition 
to  accommodate.  Mr.  Adams  immediately  despatched 
three  new  envoys  to  the  French  republic.  By  the 
time  they  got  there,  the  French  republic  was  no 


180  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

more  !  Bonaparte,  believing  that  volatile  people  in 
capable  of  governing  for  themselves,  had  kindly 
undertaken  to  govern  for  them ;  and  having,  en 
passant,  kicked  the  directory  from  their  seats,  he 
seized  their  ill-managed  power,  and  very  leisurely 
mounted  the  throne  of  the  Bourbons.  Dazzled  with 
the  splendor  of  his  talents  and  victories,  the  great 
nation  quietly  yielded  to  his  reign  ;  and  with  a  happy 
versatility  peculiar  to  themselves,  exchanged  the  tu- 
multuous and  bloody  "  Caira,"  for  the  milder  notes 
of  "  vive  1'empereur."  With  this  wonderful  man, 
the  American  envoys  found  no  difficulty  to  negotiate; 
for  having  no  wish  to  re-unite  America  to  his  hated 
enemy,  Britain,  he  received  them  very  graciously ; 
and  presently  settled  all  their  claims  in  a  satisfactory 
manner.  Thus  lovingly  did  the  breath  of  God  blow 
away  once  more  the  black  cloud  of  war,  and  restore 
the  bright  day  of  peace  to  our  favoured  land !  But 
Washington  never  iived  to  rejoice  with  his  country- 
men in  the  sunshine  of  that  peace  ;  for  before  it 
reached  our  shores,  he  had  closed  his  eyes  fo~  ever 
on  all  mortal  things. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    DEATH    OF    WASHINGTON. 

And  when  disease  obstructs  the  labouring  breath, 
When  the  heart  sickens  and  each  pulse  is  death, 
Even  then  Religion  shall  sustain  the  just ; 
Grace  their  last  moments ;  nor  desert  their  dust 

IF  the  prayers  of  millions  could  have  prevailed, 
Washington  would  have  been  immortal  on  earth. 
And  if  fulness  of  peace,  riches,  and  honours  could 
have  rendered  that  immortality  happy,  Washington 
had  been  blessed  indeed.  But  this  world  is  not  the 
place  of  true  happiness.  Though  numberless  are  the 
satisfactions,  which  a  prudence  and  virtue  like  Wash 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  181 

mgton's  may  enjoy  in  this  world,  yet  they  fall  short, 
infinite  degrees,  of  that  pure,  unembittered  felicity 
which  the  Almighty  parent  has  prepared  in  heaven 
for  the  spirits  of  the  just. 

To  prepare  for  this  immensity  of  bliss,  is  the  real 
errand  on  which  God  sent  us  into  the  world.  Our 
preparation  consists  in  acquiring  those  great  virtues, 
ourity  and  love,  which  alone  can  make  us  worthy 
Companions  of  angels,  and  fit  partakers  of  their  ex- 
alted delights.  Washington  had  wisely  spent  his  life 
in  acquiring  the  immortal  virtues.  "  He  had  fought 
the  good  fight"  against  his  own  unreasonable  affec- 
tions. He  had  glorified  God,  by  exemplifying  the 
charms  of  virtue  to  men.  He  had  borne  the  heat 
and  burden  of  the  day — his  great  day  of  duty :  and 
the  evening  of  old  age  being  come,  the  servant  of  God 
must  now  go  to  receive  his  wages.  Happy  Wash- 
ington !  If  crowns  arid  kingdoms  could  have  purchas- 
ed such  peace  as  thine,  such  hopes  big  with  immor- 
tality, with  what  begging  earnestness  would  crowns 
and  kingdoms  have  been  offered  by  the  mighty  con- 
querors of  the  earth,  in  their  dying  moments  of  terror 
and  despair ! 

On  the  14th  of  December,  1799,  (when  he  wanted 
but  nine  weeks  and  two  days  of  being  sixty-eight 
years  old,)  he  rode  out  to  his  mill,  three  miles  distant 
The  day  was  raw  and  rainy.  The  following  night 
he  was  attacked  with  a  violent  pain  and  indamrna 
tion  of  the  throat.  The  lancet  of  one  of  his  domestics 
was  employed,  but  with  no  advantage.  Early  in  the 
morning,  Dr.  Craik,  the  friend  and  physician  of  his 
youth  and  age,  was  seat  for.  Alarmed  at  the  least 
appearance  of  danger  threatening  a  life  so  dear  to 
him,  Dr.  Craik  advised  to  call  in,  immediately,  the 
consulting  assistance  of  his  friends,  the  ingenious  and 
learned  Dr.  Dick,  of  Alexandria,  and  Dr.  Brown,  of 
Port  Tobacco.  They  came  on  the  wings  of  speed. 
They  felt  the  awfulness  of  their  situation.  The 
greatest  of  human  beings  was  lying  low.  A  life,  01 
16  15 


182  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

all  others  the  most  revered,  the  most  beloved,  was  at 
stake.  And  if  human  skill  could  have  saved — '.f  the 
sword  of  genius,  and  the  buckler  of  experience  could 
have  turned  the  stroke  of  death,  Washington  had 
still  lived.  But  his  hour  was  come. 

It  appears,  that  from  the  commencement  of  the 
attack,  he  was  favored  with  a  presentiment,  that  he 
was  now  laid  down  to  rise  no  more.  He  took,  how- 
ever, the  medicines  that  were  offered  him :  but  it  was 
principally  from  a  sense  of  duty. 

It  has  been  said  that  a  man's  death  is  generally  a 
copy  of  his  life.  It  was  Washington's  case  exactly. 
In  his  last  illness  he  behaved  with  the  firmness  of  a 
soldier,  and  the  resignation  of  a  Christian. 

The  inflammation  in  his  throat  was  attended  with 
great  pain,  which  he  bore  with  the  fortitude  that  be- 
came him.  He  was,  once  or  twice,  heard  to  say  that, 
had  it  pleased  God,  he  should  have  been  glad  to  die 
a  little  easier ;  but  that  he  doubted  not  that  it  was  for 
his  good. 

Every  hour  now  spread  a  sadder  gloom  over  the 
scene.  Despair  sat  on  the  faces  of  the  physicians ; 
for  they  saw  that  their  art  had  failed !  The  strength 
of  the  mighty  was  departing  from  him ;  and  death, 
with  his  sad  harbingers,  chills  and  paleness,  was 
coming  on  apace. 

Mount  Vernon,  which  had  long  shone  the  queen 
of  elegant  joys,  was  now  about  to  suffer  a  sad  eclipse ! 
an  eclipse,  which  would  soon  be  mournfully  visible, 
not  only  through  the  United  States,  but  throughout 
the  whole  world. 

Sons  and  daughters  of  Columbia,  gather  yourselvss 
together  around  the  bed  of  your  expiring  father — 
around  the  last  bed  of  him  to  whom  under  God  you 
and  your  children  owe  many  of  the  best  blessings  of 
this  life.  When  Joseph  the  prime  minister  of  Egypt 
heard  that  his  shepherd  father  was  sick,  he  hastened 
up,  to  see  him ;  and  fell  on  his  face,  and  kissed  him, 
and  wept  a  long  while  But  Joseph  had  never 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  183 

received  such  services  from  Jacob  as  you  have  receiv- 
ed from  Washington.  But  we  call  you  not  to  weep 
for  Washington.  We  ask  you  not  to  view  those  eyes, 
now  sunk  hollow,  which  formerly  darted  their  light- 
ning flashes  against  your  enemies — nor  to  feel  that 
heart,  now  faintly  laboring,  which  so  often  throbbed 
with  more  than  mortal  joys  when  he  saw  his  young 
countrymen  charging  like  lions,  upon  the  foes  of 
liberty.  No  !  we  call  you  not  to  weep,  but  to  rejoice. 
Washington,  who  so  often  conquered  himself,  is  now 
about  to  conquer  the  last  enemy. 

Silent  and  sad  his  physicians  sat  by  his  bedside, 
looking  on  him  as  he  lay  panting  for  breath.  They 
thought  on  the  past,  and  the  tear  swelled  in  their 
eyes.  He  marked  it,  and,  stretching  out  his  hand  to 
them,  and  shaking  his  head,  said,  "  0  no !  don't ! 
don't !"  then  with  a  delightful  smile  added,  "  I  am 
dying,  gentlemen !  but,  thank  God,  I  am  not  afraid 
to  die." 

Feeling  that  the  hour  of  his  departure  out  of  this 
world  was  at  hand,  he  desired  that  every  body  would 
quit  the  room.  They  all  went  out ;  and,  according 
to  his  wish,  left  him — with  his  God. 

There,  by  himself,  like  Moses  alone  on  the  top  of 
Pisgah,  he  seeks  the  face  of  God.  There,  by  him- 
self, standing  as  on  the  awful  boundary  that  divides 
time  from  eternity,  that  separates  this  world  from  the 
next,  he  cannot  quit  the  long  frequented  haunts  of 
the  one,  nor  launch  away  into  the  untried  regions  of 
the  other,  until  (in  humble  imitation  of  the  world's 
great  Redeemer,)  he  has  poured  forth,  into  the  bosom 
of  his  God,  those  strong  sensations  which  the  solem- 
nity of  his  situation  naturally  suggested. 

With  what  angelic  fervor  did  he  adore  that 
Almighty  Love,  which,  though  inhabiting  the  heaven 
af  heavens,  deigned  to  wake  his  sleeping  dust — i 
framed  him  so  fearfully  in  the  womb — nursed  him 
on  a  tender  mother's  breast — watched  his  helpless 
nfancy  — guarded  his  heedless  youth — preserved  him 


184  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

from  the  Dominion  of  his  passions — inspired  him  with 
the  love  of  virtue — led  him  safely  up  to  man — and, 
from  such  low  beginnings,  advanced  him  to  such 
unparalleled  usefulness  and  glory  among  men ! 
These,  and  ten  thousand  other  precious  gifts  heaped 
on  him,  unasked — many  of  them  long  before  he  had 
the  knowledge  to  ask — overwhelmed  his  soul  with 
gratitude  unutterable ;  exalted  to  infinite  heights  his 
ideas  of  eternal  love;  and  bade  him  without  fear 
resign  his  departing  spirit  into  the  arms  of  his 
Redeemer  God,  whose  mercies  are  over  all  his 
works. 

He  is  now  about  to  leave  the  great  family  of  man, 
in  which  he  has  so  long  sojourned  !  The  yearnings 
of  his  soul  are  over  his  brethren !  How  fervently 
does  he  adore  that  goodness,  which  enabled  him  to 
be  so  serviceable  to  them!  that  grace,  which  preserv- 
ed him  from  injuring  them  by  violence  or  fraud  ! 
How  fervently  does  he  pray,  that  the  unsuffering 
kingdom  of  God  may  come,  and  that  the  earth  may 
be  filled  with  the  richest  fruits  of  righteousness  and 
peace ! 

He  is  now  about  to  leave  his  country  !  that  deal 
spot  which  gave  him  birth — that  dear  spot  for  which 
he  has  so  long  watched  and  prayed,  so  long  toiled 
and  fought ;  and  whose  beloved  children  he  has  so 
often  sought  to  gather,  "  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her 
chickens  under  her  wings."  He  sees  them  now 
spread  abroad  like  flocks  in  goodly  pastures;  like 
favoured  Israel  in  the  land  of  promise.  He  remem- 
bers how  God,  by  a  mighty  hand,  and  by  an  out- 
stretched arm,  brought  their  fathers  into  this  good 
land,  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey  ;  and 
blessed  them  with  the  blessings  of  heaven  above,  and 
the  earth  beneath ;  with  the  blessings  of  liberty  and 
of  peace,  of  religion  and  of  laws,  above  all  other 
people.  He  sees  that,  through  the  rich  mercies  of 
God,  they  have  now  the  precious  opportunity  to 
continue  their  country  the  glory  of  the  earth,  and  a 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  185 

refuge  for  the  poor,  and  for  the  persecuted  of  all 
lands !  The  transporting  sight  of  such  a  cloud  of 
blessings,  impending  close  over  the  heads  of  his 
countrymen,  together  with  the  distressing  uncertainty 
whether  they  will  put  forth  their  hands  and  enjoy 
them,  shakes  the  parent  soul  of  Washington  with 
feelings  too  strong  for  his  dying  frame  '.  The  last 
tear  that  he  is  ever  to  shed,  now  steals  into  his  eye 
— the  last  groan  that  he  is  ever  to  heave,  is  about  to 
issue  from  his  faintly  labouring  heart. 

Feeling  that  the  silver  cord  of  life  is  loosing,  and 
that  his  spirit  is  ready  to  quit  her  old  companion,  the 
body,  he  extends  himself  on  his  bed — closes  his  eyes 
for  the  last  time  with  his  own  hands — folds  his  arms 
decently  on  his  breast,  then  breathing  out  "  Father 
of  mercies,  take  me  to  thyself," — he  fell  asleep. 

Swift  on  angel's  wings  the  brightening  saint 
ascended ;  while  voices  more  than  human  were 
warbling  through  the  happy  regions,  and  hymning 
the  great  procession  towards  the  gates  of  heaven. 
His  glorious  coming  was  seen  afar  olf;  and  myriads 
of  mighty  angels  hastened  forth,  with  golden  harps, 
to  welcome  the  honoured  stranger.  High  in  front  ot 
the  shouting  hosts,  were  seen  the  beauteous  forms  ot 
Franklin,  Warren,  Mercer,  Scamrael,  and  of  him  who 
fell  at  Quebec,  with  all  the  virtuous  patriots,  who, 
on  the  side  of  Columbia,  toiled  or  bled  for  liberty  and 
truth.  But  oh  !  how  changed  from  what  they  were, 
when,  in  their  days  of  flesh,  bathed  in  sweat  and 
blood,  they  fell  at  the  parent  feet  of  their  weeping 
country  !  Not  the  homeliest  infant  suddenly  spring- 
ing into  a  soul-enchanting  Hebe — not  dreary  wintei 
suddenly  brightening  into  spring,  with  all  her  bloom 
and  fragrance,  ravishing  the  senses,  could  equal  such 
a  glorious  change.  Oh !  where  are  now  their 
wrinkles  and  grey  hairs  ?  Where  their  ghastly 
wounds  and  ciotted  blood  ?  Their  forms  are  of  the 
stature  of  angels — their  robes  like  morning  clouds 
streaked  with  gold — the  stars  of  heaven,  like  crowns 
IS*  10* 


186  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

glitter  on  their  heads — immortal  youth,  celestial  rosy 
red,  sits  blooming  on  their  cheeks,  while  infinite 
benignity  and  love  beam  from  their  eyes.  Such 
were  frie  forms  of  thy  sons,  0  Columbia  !  such  the 
brother  band  of  thy  martyred  saints,  that  now  pour- 
ed forth  from  heaven's  wide  opening  gates,  to  meet 
thy  Washington ;  to  meet  their  beloved  chief,  who, 
in  the  days  of  his  mortality,  had  led  their  embattled 
squadrons  to  the  war.  At  sight  of  him,  even  these 
blessed  spirits  seem  to  feel  new  raptures,  and  to  look 
more  dazzlingly  bright.  In  joyous  throngs  they  pour 
around  him — they  devour  him  with  their  eyes  of  love 
— they  embrace  him  in  transports  of  tenderness  un- 
utterable ;  while  from  their  roseate  cheeks,  tears  of 
joy,  such  as  angels  weep,  roll  down. 

All  that  followed  was  too  much  for  the  over- 
dazzled  eye  of  imagination.  She  was  seen  to  return, 
with  the  quick  panting  bosom  and  looks  entranced 
of  a  fond  mother,  near  swooning  at  sudden  sight  of  a 
dear  loved  son,  deemed  lost,  but  now  found,  and 
raised  to  kingly  honours  !  She  was  heard  passion 
ately  to  exclaim,  with  palms  and  eyes  lifted  to 
heaven,  "  0,  who  can  count  the  stars  of  Jacob,  or 
number  the  fourth  part  of  the  blessings  of  Israel ! — 
Let  me  die  the  death  of  Washington !  and  may  my 
latter  end  be  like  his !" 

Let  us  now  return  to  all  that  remained  of  Wash- 
ington on  earth.  He  had  expressly  ordered  in  his 
will,  that  he  should  be  buried  in  a  private  manner, 
and  without  any  parade.  But  this  was  impossible  ; 
for  who  could  stay  at  home  when  it  was  said,  "  To- 
day General  Washington  is  to  be  buried  !"  On  the 
morning  of  the  18th,  which  was  fixed  on  for  his 
funeral,  the  people  poured  in  by  thousands  to  pay 
him  the  last  respect,  and,  as  they  said,  to  take  their 
last  look.  And,  while  they  looked  on  him,  nature 
stirred  that  at  their  hearts,  which  quickly  brought  the 
best  blood  into  their  cheeks,  and  rolled  down  the 
tears  from  their  eyes.  About  two  o'clock  they  bore 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  187 

him  to  his  long  home,  and  buried  him  in  his  own 
family  vault,  near  the  banks  of  the  great  Potomac. 
And  to  this  day,  often  as  the  ships  of  war  pass  that 
way,  they  waken  up  the  thunder  of  their  loudest 
guns,  pointed  to  the  spot,  as  if  to  tell  the  sleeping 
hero,  that  he  is  not  forgotten  in  his  narrow  dwelling. 

The  news  of  his  death  soon  reached  Philadelphia, 
where  Congress  was  then  in  session.  A  question  of 
importance  being  on  the  carpet  that  day,  the  house, 
as  usual,  was  much  interested.  But  soon  as  it  was 
announced — "  General  Washington  is  dead" — an 
instant  stop  was  put  to  all  business—  the  tongue  of 
the  orator  was  struck  dumb — and  a  midnight  silence 
ensued,  save  when  it  was  interrupted  by  deepest 
sighs  of  the  members,  as,  with  drooping  foreheads 
rested  on  their  palms,  they  sat,  each  absorbed  in 
mournful  cogitation.  Presently,  as  utterly  unfit  for 
business,  both  houses  adjourned ;  and  the  members 
retired  slow  and  sad  to  their  lodgings,  like  men  who 
had  suddenly  heard  of  the  death  of  a  father. 

For  several  days  hardly  any  thing  was  done  in 
Congress;  hardly  any  thing  thought  of  but  to  talk  of 
and  to  praise  the  departed  Washington.  In  this 
patriotic  work  all  parties  joined  with  equal  alacrity 
and  earnestness.  In  this  all  were  federalists,  all 
were  republicans.  Elegant  addresses  were  exchang- 
ed between  the  two  houses  of  Congress  and  the 
President,  and  all  of  them  replete  with  genius  and 
gratitude. 

Then,  by  unanimous  consent,  Congiess  came  to 
the  following  resolutions  : 
1st.  That  a  grand  marble  monument  should  be  erected 

at  the  city  of  Washington,  under  which  with  per 

mission  of  his  lady,  the  body  of  the  General  should 

be  deposited. 
?«i.  That  there  should  be  a  funeral  procession  from 

congress  hall  to  the  German  Lutheran  church,  to 

hear  an  oration  delivered  by  one  of  the  members 

of  congress. 


188  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

3d.  That  the  members  of  congress  should  wear  full 

mourning  during  the  session. 
4th.  That  it  should  be  recommended  to  the  people  01 

the  United  States  to  wear  crape  on  the  left  arm,  as 

mourning,  for  thirty  days. 

But,  thank  God,  the  people  of  the  United  States 
needed  not  the  hint  contained  in  the  last  resolution. 
Though  they  could  not  all  very  elegantly  speak,  yet 
their  actions  showed  that  they  all  very  deeply  felt 
what  they  owed  to  Washington.  For,  in  every  city, 
village,  and  hamlet,  the  people  were  so  struck  on 
hearing  of  his  death,  that  long  before  they  heard  of 
the  resolution  of  congress,  they  ran  together  to  ease 
their  troubled  minds  in  talking  and  hearing  talk  of 
Washington,  and  to  devise  some  public  mode  of  tes- 
tifying their  sorrow  for  his  death.  Every  where 
throughout  the  continent,  churches  and  court  houses 
were  hung  in  black,  mourning  was  put  on,  proces- 
sions were  made,  and  sermons  preached,  while  the 
crowded  houses  listened  with  pleasure  to  the  praises 
of  Washington,  or  sighed  and  wept  when  they  heard* 
of  his  toils  and  battles  for  his  country. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

CHARACTER    OF    WASHINGTON. 

Let  the  poor  witling  argue  all  he  can 
It  is  religion  still  that  makes  the  man. 

WHEN  the  children  of  years  to  come,  hearing  his 
great  name  re-echoed  from  every  lip,  shall  say  to 
their  fathers,  "  What  was  it  that  raised  Washington 
to  such  a  height  of  glory  ?"  let  them  be  told  tnat  it 

Was  HIS  GREAT    TALENTS,  CONSTANTLY    GUIDED   AND 

GUARDED  BY  RELIGION.     For  how  si  all  man,  fraiJ 
man,  prone  to  inglorious  ease  and  pleasure,  evei 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  189 

ascend  the  arduous  steps  of  virtue,  unless  animated 
by  the  mighty  hopes  of  religion  ?  Or  what  shall  st';p 
him  in  his  swift  descent  to  infamy  and  vice,  if  un- 
awed  by  that  dread  power,  which  proclaims  to  the 
guilty  that  their  secret  crimes  are  seen,  and  shall  not 
go  unpunished  ?  Hence,  the  wise,  in  all  ages,  have 
pronounced,  that  "  there  never  was  a  truly  great  man 
without  religion." 

There  have,  indeed,  been  courageous  generals, 
and  cunning  statesmen,  without  religion,  but  mere 
courage  or  cunning,  however  transcendent,  never  yet 
made  a  great  man. 

"  Admit  that  this  can  conquer,  that  can  cheat 
'Tis  phrase  absurd,  to  call  a  villain  great ! 
Who  wickedly  is  wise,  or  madly  brave, 
Is  but  the  more  a  fool,  the  more  a  knave." 

No  !  to  be  truly  great,  a  man  must  have  not  only 
great  talents,  but  those  talents  must  be  constantly 
exerted  on  great,  i.  e.  good  actions — and  perseveringly 
too — for  if  he  should  turn  aside  to  vice — farewell  to 
his  heroism.  Hence,  when  Epaminondas  was  asked 
which  was  the  greatest  man,  himself  or  Pelopidas  ? 
he  replied,  "  wait  till  we  are  dead :"  meaning  that 
the  all  of  heroism  depends  on  perseverance  in  great 
and  good  actions.  But  sensual  and  grovelling  as 
man  is,  what  can  incline  and  elevate  him  to  those 
things  like  religion,  that  divine  power,  to  whom  alone 
it  belongs  to  present  those  vast  and  eternal  goods  and 
ills  which  best  alarm  our  fears,  enrapture  our  hopes, 
inflame  the  worthiest  loves,  rouse  the  truest  avarice, 
and  in  short,  touch  every  spring  and  passion  of  our 
«ouls  in  favour  of  virtue  and  noble  actions. 

Did  SHAME  restrain  Alcibiades  from  a  base  action 
m  the  presence  of  Socrates  ?  "  Behold,"  says  Religion, 
"  a  greater  than  Socrates  is  here  !" 

Did  LOVE  embolden  Jacob  to  brave  fourteen  years 
of  slavery  for  an  earthly  beauty  ?  Religion  springs 
that  eternal  love,  for  whose  sake  good  men  can  even 
°;lorv  in  laborious  duties. 


190  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Did  the  ambition  of  a  civic  crown  animate  Scipio 
to  heroic  deeds  ?  Religion  holds  a  crown,  at  the  sight 
of  which  the  laurels  of  a  Caesar  droop  to  weeds. 

Did  avarice  urge  Cortez  through  a  thousand  toils 
and  dangers  for  wealth  ?  Religion  points  to  those 
treasures  in  heaven,  compared  to  which  all  diamond 
beds  and  mines  of  massy  gold  are  but  trash. 

Did  good  Aurelius  study  the  happiness  of  his  sub 
jects  for  this  world's  glory  ?    Religion  displays  thai 
wor'd  of  glory,  where  those  who  have  laboured  to 
make  others  happy,  shall  "  shine  like  stars  for  ever 
and  for  ever." 

Does  the  PEAR  of  death  deter  man  from  horrid 
crimes  ?  Religion  adds  infinite  horrors  to  that  fear — 
it  warns  them  of  death  both  of  soul  and  body  in  hell. 

In  short,  what  motives  under  heaven  can  restrain 
men  from  vices  and  crimes,  and  urge  them  on,  full 
stretch,  after  individual  and  national  happiness,  like 
those  of  religion  ?  For  lack  of  these  motives,  alas  ! 
how  many  who  once  dazzled  the  world  with  the  glare 
of  their  exploits,  are  now  eclipsed  and  set  to  rise  no 
more ! 

There  was  Arnold,  who,  in  courage  and  military 
talents,  glittered  in  the  same  firmament  with  Wash- 
ington, and,  for  a  while,  his  face  shone  like  the  star 
of  the  morning;  but  alas!  for  lack  of  Washington's 
religion,  he  soon  fell,  like  Lucifer,  from  a  heaven  of 
glory,  into  an  abyss  of  never  ending  infamy. 

And  there  was  general  Charles  Lee,  too,  confessed- 
ly a  great  wit,  a  great  scholar,  a  great  soldier,  but, 
after  all,  not  a  great  man.  For,  through  lack  of  that 
magnanimous  benevolence  which  religion  inspires, 
he  fell  into  the  vile  state  of  envy :  and,  on  the  plains 
of  Monmouth,  rather  than  fight  to  immortalize  Wash- 
ington, he  chose  to  retreat  and  disgrace  himself. 

There  was  the  gallant  general  Hamilton  also — a 
gigantic  genius — a  statesman  fit  to  rule  the  mightiest 
monarchy — a  soldier  "  fit  to  stand  by  Washington  and 
give  command."  But  alas  !  for  lack  of  religion,  se*) 


LIFF  OF  WASHINGTON.  191 

now  all  was  lost !  preferring  the  praise  of  man  to  thai 
praise  "  which  cometh  from  God,"  and  pursuing  the 
phantom  honour  up  to  the  pistol's  mouth,  he  is  cut 
off  at  once  from  life  and  greatness,  and  leaves  his 
family  and  country  to  mourn  his  hapless  fate. 

And  there  was  the  fascinating  colonel  Burr,  a  man 
horn  to  be  great — brave  as  Caesar,  polished  as  Ches- 
terfield, eloquent  as  Cicero.  Lifted  by  the  strong 
arm  of  his  country,  he  rose  fast,  and  bade  fair  soon 
to  fill  the  place  where  Washington  had  sat.  But  alas ! 
lacking  religion,  he  could  not  wait  the  spontaneous 
fall  of  the  rich  honors  ripening  over  his  head,  but  in 
an  evil  hour  stretched  forth  his  hand  to  the  forbidden 
fruit,  and  by  that  fatal  act  was  cast  out  from  the 
Eden  of  our  republic,  and  amerced  of  greatness  for 
ever. 

But  why  should  I  summon  the  Arnolds  and  Lees, 
the  Hamiltons  and  Burrs  of  the  earth,  to  give  sad 
evidence,  that  no  valour,  no  genius  alone  can  make 
men  great  ?  Do  we  not  daily  meet  with  instances,  of 
youth  amiable  and  promising  as  their  fond  parents' 
wishes,  who  yet,  merely  for  lack  of  religion,  soon 
make  shipwreck  of  every  precious  hope,  sacrificing 
their  gold  to  gamblers,  their  health  to  harlots,  and 
their  glory  to  grog — making  conscience  their  curse, 
this  life  a  purgatory,  and  the  next  a  hell !  In  fact,  a 
young  man,  though  of  the  finest  talents  and  educa- 
tion, without  religion,  is  but  like  a  gorgeous  ship 
without  ballast.  Highly  painted,  and  with  flowing 
canvass,  she  launches  out  on  the  deep  ;  and  during  a 
smooth  sea  and  gentle  breeze,  she  moves  along  state- 
ly as  the  pride  of  the  ocean  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  stormy 
winds  descend,  and  the  blackening  billows  begin  to 
roll,  suddenly  she  is  overset,  and  disappears  for  ever. 
But  who  is  this  coming  thus  gloriously  along,  with 
masts  towering  to  heaven,  and  his  sails  white,  loom- 
ing like  the  mountain  of  snows?  Who  is  it  but 
"  Columbia's  first  and  greatest  son  !"  whose  talents, 
ike  the  sails  of  a  mighty  ship,  spread  far  and  wide, 


U2  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

catching  the  gales  of  heaven,  while  his  capacious 
soul,  stored  with  the  rich  ballast  of  religion,  remains 
firm  and  unshaken  as  the  ponderous  rock.  The 
warm  zephyrs  of  prosperity  breathe  meltingly  upon 
him — the  rough  storms  of  adversity  descend — the  buj 
billows  of  affliction  dash  :  but  nothing  can  move  him. 
His  eye  is  fixed  on  God  !  the  present  joys  of  an  ap- 
proving conscience,  and  the  hope  of  that  glory  which 
fadeth  not  away— these  comfort  and  support  him. 

"There  exists,"  says  Washington,  "in  the  economy 
of  nature, an  inseparable  connexion  between  duty  and 
advantage," — the  whole  afe  of  this  great  man  bears 
glorious  witness  to  the  truth  of  this  his  favorite  apho- 
rism. At  the  giddy  age  of  fourteen,  when  the  spirits 
of  youth  are  all  on  tiptoe  for  freedom  and  adventures, 
he  felt  a  strong  desire  to  go  to  sea  :  but,  very  opposite 
to  his  wishes,  his  mother  declared  that  she  could  not 
bear  to  part  with  him.  His  trial  must  have  been 
very  severe  ;  for  I  have  been  told  that  a  midshipman's 
commission  was  actually  in  his  pocket — his  trunk  of 
clothes  on  board  the  ship — his  honour  in  some  sort 
pledged — his  young  companions  importunate  with 
him  to  go — and  his  whole  soul  panting  for  the  pro- 
mised pleasures  of  the  voyage.  But  religion  whisper- 
ed "  honour  thy  mother,  and  grieve  not  the  spirit  of 
her  who  bore  thee." 

Instantly  the  glorious  boy  sacrificed  inclination  U 
duty — dropt  all  thought  of  the  voyage — and  gave 
tears  of  joy  to  his  widowed  mother,  in  clasping  to 
her  bosom  a  dear  child  who  could  deny  himself  his 
fondest  wishes  to  make  her  happy. 

'Tis  said,  that  when  he  saw  the  last  boat  gcing  on 
board,  with  several  of  his  youthful  friends  in  it — 
when  he  saw  the  flash,  and  heard  the  report  of  the 
signal  gun  for  sailing,  and  the  ship  in  all  her  pride 
of  canvass  rounding  off  for  sea,  he  could  not  bear  it; 
but  turned  away ;  and  half  choked  with  grief,  went 
into  the  room  where  his  mother  sat.  "  George,  my 
<tear  !"  said  she. "  have  you  already  repeiited  that  you 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  193 

made  your  mother  so  happy  just  now  ?"  Upon  this, 
falling  on  her  bosom,  with  his  arms  around  her  neck, 
and  a  gush  of  tears,  he  said  :  "  my  dear  mother,  I 
must  not  deny  that  I  am  sorry.  But,  indeed,  I  feel 
that  I  should  be  much  more  sorry,  were  1  on  board 
the  ship,  and  knew  that  you  were  unhappy." 

"  Well,"  replied  she,  embracing  him  tenderly,  "God, 
I  hope,  will  reward  my  dear  boy  for  this,  some  day 
or  other."  Now  see  here,  young  reader  ;  and  learn 
that  HE  who  prescribes  our  duty,  is  able  to  re  ward  it. 
Had  George  left  his  fond  mother  to  a  broken  heart, 
and  gone  off  to  sea,  'tis  next  to  certain  that  he  would 
never  have  taken  that  active  part  in  the  French  and 
Indian  war,  which,  by  securing  him  the  hearts  of  his 
countrymen,  paved  the  way  for  all  his  future  great- 
ness. 

Now  for  another  instance  of  the  wonderful  effect 
of  religion  on  Washington's  fortune.  Shortly  after 
returning  from  the  war  of  Cuba,  Lawrence  (his  half 
brother)  was  taken  with  the  consumption,  which 
made  him  so  excessively  fretful,  that  his  own  brother 
Augustin  would  seldom  come  near  him.  But  George, 
whose  heart  was  early  under  the  softening  and  sweet- 
ening influences  of  religion,  felt  such  a  tenderness  for 
his  poor  sick  brother,  that  he  not  only  submitted  to 
his  peevishness,  but  seemed,  from  what  I  have  been 
told,  never  so  happy  as  when  he  was  with  him.  He 
accompanied  him  to  the  Island  of  Bermuda,  in  quest 
of  health — and,  after  their  return  to  Mount  Vernon, 
as  often  as  his  duty  to  lord  Fairfax  permitted,  he 
would  come  down  from  the  back  woods  to  see  him. 
And,  while  with  him,  he  was  always  contriving  or 
doing  something  to  cheer  and  comfort  his  brother. 
Sometimes  with  his  gun  he  would  go  out  in  quest  of 
partridges  and  snipes,  and  other  fine-flavored  game, 
*o  tempt  his  brother's  sickly  appetite,  and  gain  him 
strength.  At  other  times  he  would  sit  for  hours  anu 
read  to  him  some  entertaining  book :  and,  when  his 
cough  came  on,  he  would  support  his  drooping  head, 

17  W 


1*4  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

and  wipe  the  cold  dew  from  his  forehead,  or  tie 
phlegm  from  his  lips,  and  give  him  his  medicine,  01 
smooth  his  pillow,  and  all  with  such  alacrity  and 
artless  tenderness  as  proved  the  sweetest  cordial  to 
his  brother's  spirits.  For  he  was  often  heard  to  say 
to  the  Fairfax  family,  into  which  he  married,  that  "he 
should  think  nothing  of  his  sickness,  if  he  could  but 
always  have  his  brother  George  with  him."  Well, 
what  was  the  consequence  ?  Why,  when  Lawrence 
was  dying,  he  left  almost  the  whole  of  his  large  estate 
to  George,  which  served  as  another  noble  step  to  his 
future  greatness. 

For  further  proof  of  "  the  inseparable  connexion 
between  duty  and  advantage,"  let  us  look  at  Wash- 
ington's conduct  through  the  French  and  Indian  war. 
To  a  man  of  his  uncommon  military  mind,  and  skill 
in  the  arts  of  Indian  warfare,  the  pride  and  precipi- 
tance of  general  Braddock  must  have  been  excessive- 
ly disgusting  and  disheartening.  But  we  hear  nothing 
of  his  threatening  either  to  leave  or  supplant  Brad- 
dock.  On  the  contrary,  he  nobly  brooked  his  rude 
manners ;  gallantly  obeyed  his  rash  orders  ;  and,  as 
far  as  in  him  lay,  endeavoured  to  correct  their  fatal 
tendencies. 

And,  after  the  death  of  Braddock,  and  the  desertion 
of  Dunbar,  that  weak  old  man,  governor  Dinwiddie, 
added  infinitely  to  his  hardships  and  hazards,  by 
appointing  him  to  the  defence  of  the  frontiers,  and 
yet  withholding  the  necessary  forces  and  supplies. 
But  though  by  that  means  the  western  country  was 
continually  overrun  by  the  enemy,  and  cruelly  de- 
luge in  blood — though  much  wearied  in  body  by 
marchings  and  watchings,  and  worse  tortured  in  soul, 
by  the  murders  and  desolations  of  the  inhabitants, 
he  shrinks  not  from  duty — still  seeking  the  smiles  of 
conscience  as  his  greatest  good ;  and  as  the  sorest 
evil,  dreading  its  frowns,  he  bravely  maintained  his 
ground,  and,  after  three  years  of  unequalled  dangers 
and  difficulties,  succeeded. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  195 

Well,  what  was  the  consequence  ?  why  it  drew 
upon  him,  from  his  admiring  countrymen,  such  an 
unbounded  confidence  in  his  principles  and  patriotism, 
as  secured  him  the  command  of  the  American  armies, 
in  the  revolutionary  war ! 

And  there  again  the  connexion  between  "  duty  and 
advantage,"  was  as  gloriously  displayed.  For  though 
congress  was,  in  legal  and  political  knowledge,  an 
enlightened  body,  and  for  patriotism  equal  to  the 
senate  of  Republican  Rome,  yet  certainly  in  military 
matters  they  were  no  more  to  be  compared  to  him, 
than  those  others  were  to  Hannibal.  But  still,  though 
they  were  constantly  thwarting  his  counsels,  and,  in 
place  of  good  soldiers,  sending  him  raw  militia,  thus 
compelling  inactivity,  or  insuring  defeat — dragging 
out  the  war — dispiriting  the  nation — and  disgracing 
him,  yet  we  hear  from  him  no  gusts  of  passion — no 
dark  intrigues  to  supplant  congress — and  with  the 
help  of  an  idolizing  nation  and  army,  to  snatch  the 
power  from  their  hands,  and  make  himself  king.  On 
the  contrary,  he  continues  to  treat  congress  as  a  vir- 
tuous son  his  respected  parents.  He  points  out  wiser 
measures,  but  in  defect  of  their  adoption,  makes  the 
best  use  of  those  they  give  him,  at  length,  through 
the  mighty  blessing  of  God,  established  the  indepen- 
dence of  his  country;  and  then  went  back  to  his 
plough. 

Well,  what  was  the  consequence  ?  Why,  these 
noble  acts  so  completely  filled  up  the  measure  of  his 
country's  love  for  him,  as  to  give  him  that  first  of  all 
felicities,  the  felicity  to  be  regarded  as  the  guardian 
angel  of  his  country,  and  to  be  able,  by  the  magic  ot 
his  name,  to  scatter  every  cloud  of  danger  that 
gathered  o^er  her  head. 

For  example,  at  the  close  of  the  war,  when  the 
army,  about  to  be  disbanded  without  their  wages, 
were  wrought  up  to  such  a  pitch  of  discontent  and 
rage,  as  seriously  to  threaten  civil  war,  see  the  won- 
Jeiful  influence  whifch  their  love  for  him  gave  him 


196  LIFb  OF  WASHINGTON. 

over  themselves  !  In  the  height  of  their  passion,  and 
that  a  very  natural  passion  too,  he  merely  makes  a 
short  speech  to  them,  and  the  storm  is  laid  !  the  tu- 
mult subsides  !  and  the  soldiers,  after  all  their  hard- 
ships, consent  to  ground  their  arms,  and  return  home 
without  a  penny  in  their  pockets ! ! ! 

Also,  in  that  very  alarming  dispute  between  Ver- 
mont and  Pennsylvania,  when  the  furious  parties,  in 
spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  congress  and  their  governors, 
had  actually  shouldered  their  guns,  and  were  drag- 
ging on  their  cannon  for  a  bloody  fight — Washington 
only  gave  them  a  few  lines  of  his  advice,  and  they 
instantly  faced  about  for  their  homes ;  and  laying  by 
their  weapons,  seized  their  ploughs  again,  like  dutiful 
children,  on  whose  kindling  passions  a  beloved  father 
had  shaken  his  hoary  locks ! ! 

And,  in  the  western  counties  of  Pennsylvania, 
where  certain  blind  patriots  affecting  to  strain  at  the 
gnat  of  a  small  excise,  but  ready  enough  to  swallow 
the  infernal  camel  of  rebellion,  had  kindled  the  flames 
of  civil  war,  and  thrown  the  whole  nation  into  a 
tremor,  Washington  had  just  to  send  around  a  circu- 
lar to  the  people  of  the  union,  stating  the  infinite  im- 
portance of  maintaining  the  sacred  reign  of  the  laws, 
and  instantly  twenty  thousand  well  armed  volunteers 
marched  among  the  insurgents, and,  without  shedding 
a  drop  of  blood,  extinguished  the  insurrection. 

In  short,  it  were  endless  to  enumerate  the  many 
dire  insurrections  and  bloody  wars  which  were 
averted  from  this  country  by  Washington,  and  all 
through  the  divine  force  of  early  Religion  !  for  k  was 
this  that  enabled  him  inflexibly  to  do  his  duty,  by 
imitating  God  in  his  glorious  works  of  wisdom  and 
benevolence ;  and  all  the  rest  followed  as  naturally 
as  light  follows  the  sun. 

We  have  seen,  at  page  17  of  this  little  work,  with 
what  pleasure  the  youthful  Washington  hung  upon 
his  father's  lip,  while  descanting  on  the  adorable 
wisdom  and  benevolent  designs  of  God  in  all  parts 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  197 

of  this  beautiful  and  harmonious  creation.  By  such 
lessons  in  the  book  of  nature,  this  virtuous  youth 
was  easily  prepared  for  the  far  higher  and  surer  lec- 
tures of  revelation,  I  mean  that  blessed  gospel  which 
contains  the  moral  philosophy  of  heaven.  There 
he  learnt,  that  "  God  is  love  ;" — and  that  all  he  de- 
sires, will  i  respect  to  men,  is  to  glorify  himself  in 
their  happiness ;  and  since  virtue  is  indispensable  to 
that  happiness,  the  infinite  and  eternal  weight  of 
God's  attributes  must  be  in  favour  of  virtue,  and 
against  vice  ;  and  consequently  that  God  will  sooner 
or  later  gloriously  reward  the  one,  and  punish  the 
other.  This  was  the  creed  of  Washington.  And 
looking  on  it  as  the  only  basis  of  human  virtue  and 
happiness,  he  very  cordially  embraced  it  himself, 
and  wished  for  nothing  so  much  as  to  see  all  others 
embrace  it. 

I  have  often  been  informed  by  Colonel  B.  Tem- 
ple, (of  King  William  County,  Virginia,)  who  was 
one  of  his  aids  in  the  French  and  Indian  war,  that  he 
has  frequently  known  Washington,  on  the  Sabbath, 
to  read  scriptures  and  pray  with  his  regiment,  in  the 
absence  of  the  chaplain  ;  and  also  that,  on  sudden  and 
unexpected  visits  into  his  marquee,  he  has,  more  than 
once,  found  him  on  his  knees  at  his  devotions. 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Lee  Massey,  long  a  rector  of 
Washington's  parish,  and  from  early  life  his  intimate, 
has  frequently  assured  me,  that  "  he  never  knew  so 
constant  an  attendant  on  church  as  Washington. 
And  his  behaviour  in  the  house  of  God,"  added  my 
reverend  friend,  "  was  so  deeply  reverential,  that  it 
produced  the  happiest  effects  on  my  congregation ; 
and  greatly  assisted  rne  in  my  moralizing  labours. 
No  company  ever  withheld  him  from  church.  1 
have  often  been  at  Mount  Vernon,  on  the  Sabbath 
morning,  when  his  breakfast  table  was  filled  with 
guests.  But  to  him  they  furnished  no  pretext  for 
neglecting  his  God,  and  losing  the  satisfaction  of 
setting  a  good  example.  For  instead  ot  staying  at 
17*  16* 


198  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

home,  out  of  false  complaisance  to  them,  he  used 
constantly  to  invite  them  to  accompany  him." 

His  secretary,  Judge  Harrison,  has  frequently  been 
heard  to  say,  that  "  whenever  the  general  could  be 
spared  from  camp  on  the  Sabbath,  he  never  failed 
riding  out  to  some  neighbouring  church,  to  join  those 
who  were  publicly  worshipping  the  great  Creator." 

And  while  he  resided  in  Philadelphia,  as  president 
of  the  United  States,  his  constant  and  cheeriui  atten- 
dance on  divine  service  was  such  as  to  convince 
every  reflecting  mind,  that  he  deemed  no  levee  so 
honourable  as  that  of  his  Almighty  Maker ;  no  plea 
sures  equal  to  those  of  devotion  ;  and  no  business  a 
sufficient  excuse  for  neglecting  his  supreme  benefactor. 

In  the  winter  of  '77,  while  Washington,  with  the 
American  army,  lay  encamped  at  Valley  Forge,  a 
certain  good  old  friend,  of  the  respectable  family  and 
name  of  Potts,  if  I  mistake  not,  had  occasion  to  pass 
through  the  woods  near  head  quarters.  Treading  in 
his  way  along  the  venerable  grove,  suddenly  he 
heard  the  sound  of  a  human  voice,  which,  as  he  ad- 
vanced, increased  on  his  ear ;  and  at  length  became 
like  the  voice  of  one  speaking  much  in  earnest.  As 
he  approached  the  spot  with  a  cautious  step,  whom 
should  he  behold,  in  a  dark  natural  bower  of  ancient 
oaks,  but  the  commander  in  chief  of  the  American 
armies  on  his  knees  at  prayer  !  Motionless  with  sur- 
prise, friend  Potts  continued  on  the  place  till  the 
general,  having  ended  his  devotions,  arose ;  and,  with 
a  countenance  of  angelic  serenity,  retired  to  head- 
quarters. Friend  Potts  then  went  home,  and  on  en- 
tering his  parlour  called  out  to  his  wife, "  Sarah  !  my 
«  dear  Sarah  !  all's  well !  all's  well !  George  Wash- 
ington will  yet  prevail !" 

"What's  the  matter,  Isaac?''  replied  she,  "thee 
seems  moved." 

"  Well,  if  I  seem  moved,  'tis  no  more  than  what  J 
really  am.  I  have  this  day  seen  what  I  nevei 
expected.  Thee  knows  that  I  always  thought  thai 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  199 

the  sword  and  the  gospel  were  utterly  inconsistent , 
and  that  no  man  could  be  a  soldier  arid  a  Christian 
at  the  same  time.  But  George  Washington  has  this 
day  convinced  me  of  my  mistake." 

He  then  related  what  he  had  seen,  and  concluded 
with  this  prophetical  remark — "  If  George  Washing- 
ton be  not  a  man  of  God,  I  am  greatly  deceived — and 
still  more  shall  I  be  deceived,  if  God  do  not,  through 
him,  work  out  a  great  salvation  for  America." 

When  General  Washington  was  told  that  the 
British  troops  at  Lexington,  on  the  memorable  19th 
of  April,  1775,  had  fired  on  and  killed  several  of  the 
Americans,  he  replied,"  I  grieve  for  the  death  of  my 
countrymen  ;  but  rejoice  that  the  British  are  still  so 
determined  to  keep  God  on  our  side,"  alluding  to 
that  noble  sentiment  which  he  has  since  so  happily 
expressed ;  viz.  "  The  smiles  of  Heaven  can  never 
be  expected  on  a  nation  that  disregards  the  eternal 
rules  of  order  and  right,  which  Heaven  itself  has  or- 
dained." 

When  called  by  his  country  in  1775,  to  lead  her 
free-born  sons  against  the  arms  of  Britain,  what 
charming  modesty,  what  noble  self-distrust,  what 
pious  confidence  in  Heaven,  appeared  in  all  his  an- 
swers. «  My  diffidence  in  my  own  abilities,"  says  he, 
was  superseded  by  a  confidence  in  the  rectitude  of 
our  cause,  and  the  patronage  of  Heaven.* 

And  when  called  to  the  presidency  by  the  unani- 
mous voice  of  the  nation,  thanking  him  for  his  great 
services  past,  with  anticipations  of  equally  great  to 
come,  his  answer  deserves  approbation. 

"  When  I  contemplate  the  interposition  of  Provi- 
dence, as  it  was  visibly  manifested  in  guiding  us 
through  the  revolution — in  preparing  us  for  the  re- 
ception of  a  general  government-  -and  in  conciliat- 
ing the  good  will  of  the  people  of  America  towards 
one  another  after  its  adoption ;  I  feel  myself  oppress- 
ed and  almost  overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  the 
tiiviue  munificence.  I  feel  that  nothing  is  due  to  my 


800  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

personal  agency  in  all  those  complicated  and  won- 
derful events,  except  what  can  simply  be  attributed 
to  the  exertions  of  an  honest  zeal  for  the  good  of  m} 
country." 

And  when  he  presented  himself  for  the  first  time 
before  that  august  body,  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  April  30th,  1789 — when  he  saw  before  him 
the  pride  of  Columbia  m  her  chosen  sons,  assembled 
to  consult  how  best  to  strengthen  the  chain  of  love 
between  the  states — to  preserve  friendship  and  har- 
mony with  foreign  powers — to  secure  the  blessings 
of  civil  and  religious  liberty — and  to  build  up  our 
young  republic  a  great  and  happy  people  among  the 
nations  of  the  earth — never  patriot  entered  on  such 
important  business  with  fairer  hopes,  whether  we 
consider  the  unanimity  and  confidence  of  the  citizens, 
or  his  own  abilities  and  virtues,  and  those  of  his 
fellow-counsellors. 

But  all  this  would  not  do.  Nothing  short  of  the 
divine  friendship  could  satisfy  Washington.  Feeling 
the  magnitude,  difficulty,  and  danger  of  managing 
such  an  assemblage  of  communities  and  interests ; 
dreading  the  machinations  of  bad  men,  and  well 
knowing  the  insufficiency  of  all  second  causes,  even 
the  best,  he  piously  reminds  congress  of  the  wisdom 
of  imploring  the  benediction  of  the  great  first  cause, 
without  which  he  knew  that  his  beloved  country 
would  never  prosper. 

"  It  would,"  says  he,  "  be  peculiarly  improper  'to 
omit,  in  this  first  official  act,  my  fervent  supplications 
to  that  Almighty  Being  who  rules  over  the  universe ; 
who  presides  in  the  councils  of  nations  ;  and  whose 
providential  aids  can  supply  every  human  defect,  that 
his  benediction  may  consecrate  to  the  liberties  and 
happiness  of  the  people  of  the  Unif.ed  States,  a 
government  instituted  by  themselves  for  these  essen- 
tial purposes ;  and  may  enable  every  instrument 
employed  in  its  administration  to  execute  with 
success  the  functions  allotted  to  his  charge.  In 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  201 

tendering  this  homage  to  the  great  Author  of  every 
public  and  private  good,  I  assure  myself  that,  it  ex 
presses  your  sentiments  not  less  than  my  own  ;  noi 
those  of  my  fellow  citizens  at  large  less  than  either. 
No  people  can  be  bound  to  acknowledge  and  adore 
the  invisible  hand  which  conducts  the  affairs  of  men, 
more  than  the  people  of  the  United  States.  Every 
step,  by  which  they  have  advanced  to  the  character 
of  an  independent  nation,  seems  to  have  been 
distinguished  by  some  token  of  providential  agency. 
These  reflections,  arising  out  of  the  present  crisis, 
have  forced  themselves  too  strongly  on  my  mind  to 
be  suppressed.  You  will  join  with  me,  I  trust,  in 
thinking,  that  there  are  none,  under  the  influence  of 
which  the  proceedings  of  a  new  and  free  government 
can  more  auspiciously  commence." 

And  after  having  come  near  to  the  close  of  this, 
the  most  sensible  and  virtuous  speech  ever  made  to 
a  sensible  and  virtuous  representation  of  a  free 
people,  he  adds — "  I  shall  take  my  present  leave ; 
but  not  without  resorting  once  more  to  the  benign 
Parent  of  the  human  race  in  humble  supplication, 
that,  since  he  has  been  pleased  to  favour  the  Ameri- 
can people  with  opportunities  for  deliberating  with 
perfect  tranquility,  and  dispositions  for  deciding  with 
unparalleled  unanimity,  on  a  form  of  government 
for  the  security  of  their  union,  and  the  advancement 
of  their  happiness  ;  so  his  divine  blessings  may 
be  equally  conspicuous  in  the  enlarged  views, 
the  temperate  consultations,  and  the  wise  measures, 
on  which  the  success  of  this  government  must  de- 
pend." 

In  this  constant  disposition  to  look  for  national 
happiness  only  in  national  morals,  flowing  from  the 
sublime  affections  and  blessed  hopes  of  Religion, 
Washington  egreed  with  those  great  legislators  oi 
nations,  Moses,  Lycurgus,  and  Numa.  "  I  ask  not 
gold  for  Spartans,"  said  Lycurgus.  "Virtue  is  better 
than  all  go  I."  The  event  showed  his  wisdom— 


802  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

The  Spartans  were  invincible  so  long  as  they  remain- 
ed virtuous — even  500  years. 

"  I  ask  not  wealth  for  Israel,"  cried  Moses.  "But 
0  that  they  were  wise  ! — that  they  did  but  fear  God 
and  keep  his  comandments !  The  Lord  himself 
would  be  their  sun  and  shield."  The  event  proved 
Moses  a  true  prophet.  For  while  they  were  reli- 
gious they  were  unconquerable.  "  United  as  bro- 
thers, swift  as  eagles,  stronger  than  lions,  one  could 
chase  a  thousand;  and  two  put  ten  thousand  to 
flight." 

"  Of  all  the  dispositions  and  habits  which  lead  to 
the  prosperity  of  a  nation,"  says  Washington, 
"Religion  is  the  indispensable  support.  Volumes 
could  not  trace  all  its  connexions  with  private  and 
public  happiness.  Let  it  simply  be  asked,  where  is 
the  security  for  property,  for  reputation,  for  life  itself, 
if  there  be  no  fear  of  God  on  the  minds  of  those  who 
give  their  oaths  in  courts  of  justice." 

But  some  will  tell  us,  that  human  laws  are  suffi- 
cient for  the  purpose ! 

Human  laws ! — human  nonsense  !  For  how  often, 
even  where  the  cries  and  screams  of  the  wretched 
called  aloud  for  lightning  speeded  vengeance,  have 
we  not  seen  the  sword  of  human  law  loiter  in  its 
coward  scabbard,  afraid  of  angry  royalty?  Did  not 
that  vile  queen  Jezebel,  having  a  mind  to  compli- 
ment her  husband  with  a  vineyard  belonging  to  poor 
Naboth,  suborn  a  couple  of  villians  to  take  a  false 
oath  against  him  ;  and  then  cause  him  to  be  dragged 
out  with  his  little  motherless,  crying  babes,  and 
barbarously  stoned  to  death. 

Great  God!  what  bloody  tragedies  have  been 
acted  on  the  poor  ones  of  the  earth,  by  kings  and 
great  men,  who  were  above  the  laws,  and  had  no 
sense  of  Religion  to  keep  them  in  awe  !  And  if  men 
be  not  above  the  laws,  yet  what  horrid  crimes!  what 
ruinous  robberies  !  what  wide-wasting  havoc!  what 
cruel  murders  may  they  not  commit  in  secret,  if  they 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTOiN.  203 

be  not  withheld  by  the  sacred  arm  of  religion  !  "In 
vain,  therefore,"  says  Washington,  "  would  that 
man  claim  the  tribute  of  patriotism,  who  should  do 
any  thing  to  discountenance  Religion  and  morality, 
those  great  pillars  of  human  happiness,  those  firmest 
props  of  the  duties  of  men  and  citizens.  The  mere 
politician,  equally  with  the  pious  man,  ought  to 
respect  and  cherish  them." 

But  others  have  said,  and  with  a  serious  face  too, 
that  a  sense  of  honour  is  sufficient  to  preserve  men 
from  base  actions  !  0  blasphemy  to  sense  !  Do  we 
not  daily  hear  of  men  of  honour,  by  dice  and  cards, 
draining  their  fellow  citizens  of  the  last  cent,  reduc- 
ing them  to  beggary,  or  driving  them  to  a  pistol  ? 
Do  we  not  daily  hear  of  men  of  honour  corrupting 
their  neighbours  wives  and  daughters,  and  then 
murdering  the  husbands  and  brothers  in  duels  ? 
Bind  such  selfish,  such  inhuman  beings,  by  a  sense 
of  honour!  !  why  not  bind  roaring  lions  with  cob- 
webs? "  No,"  exclaims  Washington,  "whatever  a 
sense  of  honour  may  do  on  men  of  refined  education, 
and  on  minds  of  a  peculiar  structure,  reason  and 
experience  both  forbid  us  to  expect  that  national 
morality  can  prevail  in  exclusion  of  Religious 
principles." 

And  truly  Washington  had  abundant  reason,  from 
his  own  happy  experience,  to  recommend  Religion 
so  heartily  to  others. 

For  besides  all  those  inestimable  favours  which  he 
received  from  her  at  the  hands  of  her  celestial  daugh- 
ters, the  Virtues;  she  threw  over  him  her  own  magic 
mantle  of  Character.  And  it  was  this  that  immortal- 
ized Washington.  By  inspiring  his  countrymen 
with  the  profoundest  veneration  for  him  as  the 
best  of  men,  it  naturally  smoothed  his  way  to 
supreme  command ;  so  that  when  War,  that  monster 
of  satan,  came  on  roaring  against  America,  with  all 
his  death's  heads  and  garments  rolled  in  blood,  the 
natioja  unanimously  placed  Washington  at  the  head 


804  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

of  their  armies,  from  a  natural  persuasion  that  so 
good  a  man  must  be  the  peculiar  favourite  of 
Heaven,  and  the  fastest  friend  of  his  country.  How 
far  this  precious  instinct  in  favour  of  goodness  was 
correct,  or  how  far  Washington's  conduct  was 
honourable  to  Religion  and  glorious  to  himself  and 
country,  bright  ages  to  come,  and  happy  millions  yet 
unborn,  will,  we  confidently  hope,  declare  to  the 
most  distant  posterity. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WASHINGTON'S  CHARACTER  CONTINUED. 
HIS    BENEVOLENCE. 

This  only  can  the  bliss  bestow 
Immortal  souls  should  prove ; 
From  one  short  word  all  pleasures  flow, 
That  blessed  word  is — Love. 

IF  ever  man  rejoiced  in  the  divine  administration, 
and  cordially  endeavoured  to  imitate  it  by  doing 
good,  George  Washington  was  that  man.  Taught 
by  religion  that  "  God  is  love,"  he  wisely  concluded 
those  the  most  happy  who  love  the  most ;  and,  taught 
by  experience  that  it  is  love  alone  that  gives  a  parti- 
cipation  and  interest  in  others,  capacitating  us  to 
lejoice  with  those  who  rejoice,  and  to  weep  with 
those  who  weep,  he  early  studied  that  benevolence 
which  rendered  him  so  singularly  the  delight  of 
mankind. 

The  marquis  De  Chastellux,  who  visited  him  in 
camp,  tells  us  that  "  he  was  astonished  and  delighted 
to  see  the  great  American  living  among  his  omceis 
and  men  as  a  father  among  his  children,  who  at  once 
revered  and  loved  him  with  a  filial  tenderness." 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  205 

Brissot,  another  famous  French  traveller,  assures 
us,  that  "  throughout  the  continent  every  body  spoke 
of  Washington  as  of  a  father." 

The  dearest  and  best  of  all  appellations,  "The 
father  of  his  country,"  was  the  neutral  fruit  of  that 
benevolence  which  he  so  carefully  cultivated  through 
life.  A  singular  instance  of  which  we  meet  with  in 
1754,  and  the  22nd  year  of  his  age. 

He  was  stationed  at  Alexandria  with  his  regiment, 
the  only  one  in  the  colony,  and  of  which  he  was  co- 
lonel. There  happened  at  this  time  to  be  an  election 
in  Alexandria  for  members  of  the  assembly  :  and  the 
contest  ran  high  between  Colonel  George  Fairfax, 
and  Mr.  Elzey.  Washington  was  the  warm  friend 
of  Fairfax :  and  a  Mr.  Payne  headed  the  friends  of 
Elzey.  A  dispute  happening  to  take  place  in  the 
court-house  yard,  Washington,  a  thing  very  uncom- 
mon with  him,  became  warm ;  and,  which  was  still 
more  uncommon,  said  something  that  offended 
Payne  ;  whereupon  the  little  gentleman,  who,  though 
but  a  cub  in  size,  was  the  old  lion  in  heart,  raised  his 
sturdy  hickory,  and,  at  a  single  blow,  brought  our 
hero  to  the  ground.  Several  of  Washington's  offi- 
cers being  present,  whipped  out  their  cold  irons  in  an 
instant :  and  it  was  believed  that  there  would  have 
been  murder  off-hand.  To  make  bad  worse,  his 
regiment,  hearing  how  he  had  been  treated,  bolted 
out  from  their  barracks,  with  every  man  his  weapon 
in  his  hand,  threatening  dreadful  vengeance  on  those 
who  had  dared  to  knock  down  their  beloved  colonel. 
Happily  for  Mr.  Paine  and  his  party,  Washington 
recovered,  time  enough  to  go  out  and  meet  his  en- 
raged soldiers :  and,  after  thanking  them  for  this  ex- 
pression of  their  love,  and  assuring  them  that  he 
was  not  hurt  in  the  least,  he  begged  them,  as  they 
loved  him  or  their  duty,  to  return  peaceably  to  theii 
barracks.  As  for  himself,  he  went  to  his  room,  ge- 
nerously chastising  his  imprudence,  which  had  thus 
struck  up  a  spark  that  had  like  to  have  thrown  the 
13  17 


206  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

whole  town  into  a  flame.    Finding  on  mature  icflec- 
tion,  that  he  had  been  the  aggressor,  he  resolved  to 
make  Mr.  Payne  honourable  reparation,  by  asking 
his  pardon  on  the  morrow  !  No  sooner  had  he  made 
this  noble  resolution,  than,  recovering  that  delicious 
gaiety  which  accompanies  good  purposes  in  a  virtu 
ous  mind,  he  went  to  a  ball  that  night,  and  behaved 
as  pleasantly  as  though  nothing  had  happened  !  Glo 
rious  proof,  that  great  souls,  like  great  ships,  are  not 
affected  by  those  little  puffs  which  would  overset  fee 
ble  minds  with  passion,  or  sink  them  with  spleen  ! 

The  next  day  he  went  to  a  tavern,  and  wrote  a 
polite  note  to  Mr.  Payne,  whom  he  requested  to 
meet  him.  Mr.  Payne  took  it  for  a  challenge,  and 
repaired  to  the  tavern,  not  without  expecting  to  see 
a  pair  of  pistols  produced.  But  what  was  his  sur- 
prise on  entering  the  chamber,  to  see  a  decanter  of 
wine  and  glasses  on  the  table  !  Washington  arose, 
and  in  a  very  friendly  manner  met  him  ;  and  gave 
him  his  hand.  "  Mr.  Payne,"  said  he, "  to  err  is 
nature  :  to  rectify  error  is  glory.  I  find  I  was  wrong 
yesterday  :  but  I  wish  to  be  right  to-day.  You  have 
had  some  satisfaction :  and  if  you  think  that  sufficient, 
here's  my  hand ;  let  us  be  friends." 

Admirable  youth !  Noble  speech !  No  wonder, 
since  it  charms  us  so,  that  it  had  such  an  effect  on 
Mr.  Payne,  who  from  that  moment  became  the  most 
ardent  admirer  and  friend  of  Washington,  and  ready 
at  any  time,  for  his  sake,  to  charge  up  to  a  battery 
of  two  and  forty  pounders. 

What  a  lesson  for  our  young  countrymen  !  Had 
Washington  been  one  of  the  race  of  little  men,  how 
sadly  different  would  have  been  his  conduct  on  this 
occasion  !  Instead  of  going  that  night  to  the  ball,  and 
acting  the  lively  agreeable  friend,  he  would,  like  an 
angry  viper  that  had  been  trod  on,  have  retired  to 
his  chamber.  There  he  would  have  found  no  such 
entertainment  as  Washington  had  at  this  ball ;  no 
sprightly  music,  no  delicious  wines,  no  sweetly 


LIFE  OF  \\ASH1NGTON.  207 

smiling  friends.  On  the  contrary,  all  the  tortures  of 
a  soul  brooding  over  its  indignities,  until  reflection 
had  whipped  it  up  into  pangs  of  rage  unutterable^ 
while  all  the  demons  of  hell,  with  blood-stained 
torches  pointing  at  his  bleeding  honour,  cried  out 
"revenge  !  revenge  !  revenge  !"  There  in  his  cham- 
ber, he  would  have  passed  the  gloomy  night  prepar- 
ing his  pistols,  moulding  his  bullets,  or  with  furious 
looks  driving  them  through  the  body  of  his  enemy 
chalked  on  the  wall.  The  next  morning  would  have 
seen  him  on  the  field,  and  in  language  lately  heard 
in  this  state,  calling  out  to  his  hated  antagonist,  You 
have  injured  me,  sir,  beyond  reconciliation  :  and  by 

I'll  kill  you  if  I  can.    While  his  antagonist,  in  a 

style   equally   musical   and   Christian,  would  have 

rejoined,  Kill,  and   be !  Pop  go  the  pistols — 

down  tumbles  one  of  the  combatants;  while  the 
murderer,  with  knocking  knees  and  looks  of  Cain, 
flies  from  the  avenger  of  blood  !  The  murdered  man 
is  carried  to  his  house,  a  ghastly,  bloody  corpse. 
Merciful  God  !  what  a  scene  ensues !  some  are  stu- 
pified  with  horror  !  others  sink  lifeless  to  the  floor  ! 
His  tender  sisters,  wild  shrieking  with  despair,  throw 
themselves  on  their  dead  brother  and  kiss  his  ice-cold 
lips ;  while  his  aged  parents,  crushed  under  unutter- 
able woe,  go  down  in  their  snowy  locks  broken- 
hearted to  the  grave. 

Thus  bloody  and  miserable  might,  have  been  the 
end  of  Washington  or  of  Payne,  had  Washington 
been  one  of  those  poor  deluded  young  men,  who  are 
determined  to  be  great ;  and  so  be  brought  forward 
in  newspapers,  in  spite  of  God  or  devil.  But  Wash- 
ington was  not  born  to  exemplify  those  horrid  trage- 
dies, which  cowards  create  in  society  by  pusillani- 
mously  giving  way  to  their  bad  passions.  No — he 
was  bom  to  teach  his  countrymen  what  sweet  peace 
and  harmony  might  for  ever  smile  in  the  habitations 
of  men,  if  all  had  but  the  courage,  like  himself,  to 
obey  the  sacred  voice  of  justice  and  humanity.  By 


90S  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

firmly  obeying  these, he  preserved  his  hands  unstained 
by  the  blood  of  a  fellow  man ;  and  his  soul  unhar- 
rowed  by  the  cruel  tooth  of  never-dying  remorse.  By 
firmly  obeying  these,  he  preserved  a  life,  which, 
crowned  with  deeds  of  justice  and  benevolence,  has 
brought  more  glory  to  God,  more  good  to  man,  and 
more  honor  to  himself,  than  any  life  ever  spent  since 
the  race  of  man  began. 

Sons  of  Columbia  !  would  you  know  what  is  true 
courage  ?  see  it  defined,  see  it  exemplified  in  this  act 
of  your  young  but  great  countryman.  Never  man 
possessed  a  more  undaunted  courage,  than  Washing- 
ton. But  in  him  this  noble  quality  was  the  lifeguard 
of  his  reason,  not  the  assassin ;  a  ready  servant  to 
obey  her  commands,  not  a  bully  to  insult  them ;  a 
champion  to  defend  his  neighbour's  rights,  not  a 
tyrant  to  invade  them.  Transported  by  sudden  pas- 
sion, to  which  all  are  liable,  he  offended  Mr.  Payne, 
who  resented  it  rather  too  roughly,  by  knocking  him 
down  on  the  spot.  Washington  had  it  in  his  power 
to  have  taken  ample  revenge :  and  cowards,  who 
have  no  command  over  their  passions,  would  have 
done  it.  But  duty  forbade  him :  and  he  had  the 
courage  to  obey.  Reason  whisperer!  the  folly  of 
harbouring  black  passions  in  his  soul,  poisoning  his 
peace.  He  instantly  banished  them ;  and  went  to  a 
ball,  to  drink  sweet  streams  of  friendship  from  the 
eyes  of  happy  friends.  Again  reason  whispered  him, 
that  having  been  the  aggressor,  he  ought  to  ask 
Payne's  pardon,  and  compromise  the  difference  with 
him.  In  this  also  he  had  the  courage  to  obey  her 
sacred  voice. 

In  what  history,  ancient  or  modern,  sacred  or  pro- 
fane, can  you  find,  in  so  young  a  man,  only  twenty- 
two,  such  an  instance  of  that  TRUE  HEROIC  VALOUR 
which  combats  malignant  passions — conquers  un 
reasonable  self — rejects  the  hell  of  hatred,  and  invites 
the  heaven  of  love  into  our  own  bosoms,  and  into 
those  of  our  brethren  with  whom  we  may 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  209 

quarrelled  ?  Joseph  forgiving  his  brethren  in  the  land 
of  Egypt ;  David  sparing  that  inveterate  seeder  of 
his  life,  Saul;  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  pardoning  the 
young  man  who  spit  in  his  face ;  afford,  it  is  true, 
charming  specimens  of  the  sublime  and  beautiful  in 
action :  certainly,  such  men  are  worthies  of  the 
world,  and  brightest  ornaments  of  human  nature. 
But  yet  none  of  them  have  gone  beyond  Washington 
in  the  affair  of  Payire. 

A  few  years  after  this,  Payne  had  a  cause  tried  in 
Fairfax  court.  Washington  happened  on  that  day 
to  be  in  the  house.  The  lawyer  on  the  other  side, 
finding  he  was  going  fast  to  leeward,  thought  he 
would  luff  up  with  a  whole  broadside  at  Payne's 
character :  and,  after  raking  him  fore  and  aft  with 
abuse,  he  artfully  bore  away  under  the  lee  of  the 
jury's  prejudices,  which  he  endeavoured  to  inflame 
against  him.  "  Yes,  please  your  worships,"  con- 
tinued he,  "  as  a  proof  that  this  Payne  is  a  most 
turbulent  fellow,  and  capable  of  all  I  tell  you,  be 
pleased  to  remember,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  that 
this  is  the  very  man,  who  some  time  ago  treated 
our  beloved  colonel  Washington  so  barbarously. 
Yes,  this  is  the  wretch,  who  dared,  in  this  very 
court-house  yard,  to  lift  up  his  impious  hand  against 
that  greatest  and  best  of  men,  and  knocked  him  down 
as  though  he  had  been  a  bullock  of  the  stalls. 

This,  roared  in  a  thundering  tone,  and  with  a  tre- 
mendous stamp  on  the  floor,  made  Payne  look  very 
dejected ;  for  he  saw  the  countenance  of  the  court 
beginning  to  blacken  on  him.  But  Washington  rose 
immediately,  and  thus  addressed  the  bench  : 

"  As  to  Mr.  Payne's  character,  may  it  please  your 
worships,"  said  he,  "  we  all  have  the  satisfaction  to 
know  that  it  is  perfectly  unexceptionable  :  and  with 
respect  to  the  little  difference  which  formerly  hap- 
pened between  that  gentleman  and  myself,  it  was 
instantly  made  up :  and  we  have  lived  on  the  besi 
terms  ever  since  •  moreover,  I  wish  all  my  acquaint- 
18*  17* 


210  LIFE  OF  WAShlNGTON 

ance  to  know,  that  I  entirely  acquit  Mr.  Payne  of 
blame  in  that  affair,  and  take  it  all  on  myself  as  the 
aggressor." 

Payne  used  often  to  relate  another  anecdote  of 
Washington,  which  reflects  equal  honour  on  the 
goodness  of  his  heart. 

Immediately  after  the  war,"  said  he,  "  when  the 
conquering  hero  was  returning  in  peace  to  his  home, 
with  the  laurels  of  victory  green  and  flourishing  on 
his  head,  I  felt  a  great  desire  to  see  him,  and  so  set 
out  for  Mount  Vernon.  As  I  drew  near  the  house, 
I  began  to  experience  a  rising  fear,  lest  he  should 
call  to  mind  the  blow  I  had  given  him  in  former 
days.  However,  animating  myself,  I  pushed  on. 
Washington  met  me  at  the  door  with  a  smiling  wel- 
come, and  presently  led  me  into  an  adjoining  room, 
where  Mrs.  Washington  sat.  "  Here,  my  dear," 
said  he,  prsenting  me  to  his  lady,  "  here  is  the  little 
man  you  have  so  often  heard  me  talk  of;  and  who, 
on  a  difference  between  us  one  day,  had  the  resolu- 
tion, to  knock  me  down,  big  as  I  am.  I  know  you 
will  honour  him  as  he  deserves ;  for  I  assure  you  he 
has  the  heart  of  a  true  Virginian."  "  He  said  this," 
continued  Mr.  Payne,  "  with  an  air  which  convinced 
me  that  his  long  familiarity  with  war  had  not  robbed 
him  of  a  single  spark  of  the  goodness  and  nobleness  of 
his  heart.  And  Mrs.  Washington  looked  at  him,  I 
thought,  with  a  something  in  her  eyes,  which  showed 
that  he  appeared  to  her  greater  and  lovelier  than 
ever." 

A  good  tree,  saith  the  divine  teacher,  bringeth  forth 
good  fruit.  No  wonder  then  that  we  meet  with  so 
many  and  such  delicious  fruits  of  CHARITY  in  Wash- 
ington, whose  soul  was  so  rich  in  benevolence. 

In  consequence   of  his  wealth  and  large  landed 

possessions,  he  had  visits  innumerable  from  the  poor. 

Knowing  the  great  value  of  time  and  of  good  tempers 

to  them,  he  could  not  bear  that  they  should  lose 

ither,  by  long  waiting  and  shuffling,  and  blowing 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  211 

their  fingers  at  his  door.  He  had  a  room  set  apan 
for  the  reception  of  such  poor  persons  as  had  business 
with  him:  and  the  porter  had  orders  to  conduct  them 
into  it,  and  to  inform  him  immediately.  And  so 
affectionately  attentive  was  he  to  them,  that  if  he 
was  in  company  with  the  greatest  characters  on  the 
continent,  when  his  servant  informed  him  that  a  poor 
man  wished  to  speak  to  him,  he  would  instantly  beg 
them  to  excuse  him  for  a  moment,  and  go  and  wait 
on  him. 

Washington's  conduct  showed  that  he  disliked 
another  practice,  too  common  among  some  great  men, 
who,  not  having  the  power  to  say,  yes,  nor  the  heart 
to  say  no,  to  a  poor  man,  are  fain  to  put  him  off  with 
a  "  come  again ;  come  again  $"  and  thus  trot  him 
backwards  and  forwards,  wasting  his  time,  wearing 
out  his  patience  and  shoes,  and  after  all  give  him  the 
mortification  of  a  disappointment. 

Washington  could  not  be  guilty  of  such  cruel 
kindness.  If  he  could  not  oblige  a  poor  applicant, 
he  would  candidly  tell  him  so  at  once  :  but  then  the 
goodness  of  his  heart  painted  his  regret  so  sensibly 
on  his  countenance,  that  even  his  refusals  made  him 
friends. 

A  poor  Irishman,  wanting  a  small  farm,  and  hear- 
ing that  Washington  had  one  to  rent,  waited  on  him. 
Washington  told  him  that  he  was  sincerely  sorry  that 
he  could  not  assist  him  ;  for  he  had  just  disposed  of 
it.  The  poor  man  took  his  leave,  but  not  without 
returning  him  a  thousand  thanks  !  Ah,  do  you  thank 
me  so  heartily  for  a  refusal  !  "  Yes,  upon  my  shoul, 
now  plase  your  excellency's  honour,  and  I  do  thank 
you  a  thousand  times.  For  many  a  great  man  would 
have  kept  me  waiting  like  a  black  negro.  But  your 
excellency's  honour  has  told  me  straight  off  hand 
that  you  are  sorry  and  God  bless  you  for  it,  that  you 
can't  help  me — and  so  your  honour  has  done  my 
Business  for  me,  in  no  time,  and  less." 

The  Potomac  abounds  with  the  finest  herrings  in 


212  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  ^ 

the  world,  which,  when  salted,  furnish  not  only  to 
the  wealthy  a  charming  relish  for  their  tea  and  coffee, 
but  also  to  the  poor  a  delicious  substitute  for  bacon. 
But,  fond  as  they  are  of  this  small  boned  bacon,  as 
they  call  it,  many  of  them  have  not  the  means  to 
procure  it.  Washington's  heart  felt  for  these  poor 
people  ;  and  provided  a  remedy.  He  ordered  a  seine 
and  a  batteau  to  be  kept  on  one  of  the  best  fishing 
shores,  on  purpose  for  the  poor.  If  the  batteau  were 
lost,  or  the  seine  spoilt,  which  was  often  the  case,  he 
had  them  replaced  with  new  ones  immediately.  And 
if  the  poor  who  came  for  fish  were  too  weak  handed 
to  haul  the  seine  themselves,  they  needed  but  to  ap- 
ply to  the  overseer,  who  had  orders  from  Washing- 
ton to  send  hands  to  help  them.  Thus  all  the  poor 
had  it  in  their  power  to  come  down  in  the  season, 
abd  catch  the  finest  fish  for  themselves  and  their 
families.  In  what  silver  floods  were  ever  yet  caught 
the  herrings,  which  could  have  given  to  Washington 
what  he  tasted,  on  seeing  the  poor  driving  away 
from  his  shores,  with  carts  laden  with  delicious  fish, 
and  carrying  home,  whooping  and  singing  to  their 
smiling  wives  and  children,  the  rich  prize,  a  whole 
year's  plenty. 

In  all  his  charities,  he  discovered  great  judgment 
and  care  in  selecting  proper  objects.  Character  was 
the  main  chance.  Mount  Vernon  had  no  charms  for 
lazy,  drunken,  worthless  beggars.  Persons  of  that 
description  knew  very  well  that  they  must  take  their 
application  elsewhere.  He  never  failed  to  remind 
them  of  the  great  crime  of  robbing  the  public  of  their 
services,  and  also  the  exceeding  cruelty  and  injustice 
jf  snapping  up  from  the  really  indigent,  what  little 
charity  bread  was  stirring.  But  if  the  character 
were  good — if  the  poor  petitioner  were  a  sober, 
honest,  and  industrious  person,  whom  Providence 
had  by  sickness  or  losses  reduced  to  want — he  found 
a  brother  in  Washington.  It  is  incredible  whai 
quantities  of  wool,  corn,  bacon,  flour,  clothes,  &c. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  213 

wrere  annually  distributed  to  the  poor,  from  the 
almost  exhaustless  heap,  which  the  blessings  of  Hea- 
ven bestowed  on  this,  its  industrious  and  faithful 
steward. 

"  I  had  orders,"  said  Mr.  Peake,  a  sensible,  honest 
manager  of  one  of  Washington's  plantations,  to  fill  a 
corn-house  every  year,  for  the  sole  use  of  the  poor 
in  my  neighbourhood  !  to  whom  it  was  a  mo?t  sea- 
sonable and  precious  relief;  saving  numbers  of  poor 
women  and  children  from  miserable  famine,  and 
blessing  them  with  a  cheerful  plenteousness  of  bread." 

Mr.  Lund  Washington,  long  a  manager  of  his 
Mount  Vernon  estate,  had  similar  orders.  One  year 
when  corn  was  so  dear  (a  dollar  per  bushel)  that 
numbers  of  the  poor  were  on  the  point  of  starving, 
Mr.  L.  Washington,  by  order  of  the  general,  not 
only  gave  away  all  that  could  be  spared  from  the 
granaries,  but  bought  at  that  dear  rate,  several  hun- 
dred bushels  for  tliem ! 

Anecdote  of  Washington. — The  town  of  Alexan- 
dria, which  now  flourishes  like  a  green  bay  tree,  on 
the  waters  of  the  Potomac,  was,  50  years  ago,  but  a 
small  village.  But  though  small,  it  was  lovely.  Sit- 
uated on  the  fine  plain  which  banks  the  western 
margin  of  the  river,  and  with  snow  white  domes 
glistening  through  the  trees  that  shook  their  green 
heads  over  the  silver  flood,  it  formed  a  view  highly 
romantic  and  beautiful.  Hence  the  name  of  the 
place  at  first  was  Bellhaven.  But,  with  all  the  beau- 
ties to  the  eye,  Bellhaven  had  no  charms  for  the  pal- 
ate. Not  that  the  neighbourhood  of  Bellhaven  was 
a  desert ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was,  in  many  places,  a 
garden  spot  abounding  with  luxuries.  But  its  inhab- 
itants, though  wealthy,  were  not  wise.  By  the 
successful  culture  of  tobacco  they  had  made  money. 
\nd  having  filled  their  coach-houses  with  gilt  car- 
nages, and  their  dining  rooms  with  gilt  glasses,  they 
oegan  to  look  tioxvn  on  the  poorer  sort,  and  to  talk 
about  families.  Of  course  it  would  never  do  for  such 


814  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

great  people  to  run  market  carts  ! !  Hence  the  poor 
Bellhavenites,  though  embosomed  in  plenty  were 
often  in  danger  of  gnawing  their  nails ;  and  unless 
they  could  cater  a  lamb  from  some  goodnatured 
peasant,  or  a  leash  of  chickens  from  the  Sunday 
negroes,  were  obliged  to  sit  down  with  long  faces  to 
a  half-graced  dinner  of  salt  meat  and  Johnny  cake. 
This  was  the  order  of  the  day,  A.  D.  J59,  when 
Washington,  just  married  to  the  wealthy  young  Mrs. 
Custis,  had  settled  at  Mount  Vernon,  nine  miles 
below  Bellhaven.  The  unpleasant  situation  of  the 
families  at  that  place  soon  reached  his  ear.  To  a 
man  of  his  character,  with  too  much  spirit  to  follow 
a  bad  example,  when  he  had  the  power  to  set  a  goo  . 
one,  and  too  much  wit  to  look  for  happiness  any 
where  but  in  his  o\vn  bosom,  it  could  not  long  be 
questionable  what  part  he  had  to  act.  A  market 
cart  was  instantly  constructed  ;  and  regularly,  three 
times  a  week,  sent  off  to  Bellhaven,  filled  with  nice 
roasters,  kidney  covered  lamb  and  veal,  green  geese, 
fat  ducks,  chickens  by  the  basket,  fresh  butter,  new 
laid  eggs,  vegetables,  and  fruit  of  all  sorts.  Country 
gentlemen,  dining  with  their  friends  in  town,  very 
soon  marked  the  welcome  change  of  diet.  "  Bless 
us  all !"  exclaimed  they,  "  what's  the  meaning  of 
this  ?  you  invited  us  to  family  fare,  and  here  you've 
given  us  a  lord  mayor's  feast."  "  Yes,"  replied  the 
others,  "  thank  God  for  sending  Colonel  Washington 
into  our  neighbourhood."  Thus,  it  was  discovered, 
to  the  extreme  mortification  of  some  of  the  little  great 
ones,  that  Colonel  Washington  should  ever  have  run 
t  market  cart !  !  But  the  better  sort,  who  generally, 
thank  God,  have  sense  enough  to  be  led  right,  pro- 
vided they  can  get  a  leader,  soon  fell  into  the  track : 
and  market  carts  were  soon  seen  travelling  in  abun- 
dance to  town  with  every  delicacy  of  the  animal  and 
vegetable  republics. 

Thus  the  hungry  wall  which   pride   had  raised 
against  Bellhaven  was  happily  demolished    A  flood 


UFL  OF  WASHINGTON.  215 

tide  of  blessings  rolled  in  from  the  neighbouring 
country.  The  hearts  of  the  merchants  felt  a  fresh 
pulse  of  love  for  their  brothers,  the  farmers :  and 
even  the  little  children,  with  cheeks  red  as  the  apples 
they  seized,  were  taught  to  lisp  the  praises  of  God. 
And  all  this,  reader,  through  the^active  benevolence 
of  one  man. 

The  following  anecdote  was  related  to  me  by  his 
excellency  Governor  Johnson  (Maryland,)  one  of  the 
few  surviving  heroes  of  '76. 

"  You  seem,  sir,"  said  he  addressing  himself  to  me, 
"very  fond  of  collecting  anecdotes  of  Gen.  Washing- 
ton. Well,  I'll  tell  you  one,  to  which  you  may 
attach  the  most  entire  faith ;  for  I  have  heard  it  a 
dozen  times  and  oftener,  from  the  lips  of  a  very 
valuable  man  and  a  magistrate,  in  Conostoga,  a  Mr. 
Conrad  Hogmyer."  "  Just  before  the  revolutionary 
war,"  said  Mr.  Hogmyer,  "  I  took  a  trip  for  rny 
health's  sake  to  the  Sweet  Springs  of  Virginia,  where 
I  found  a  world  of  people  collected ;  some,  like  me, 
looking  for  health,  others  for  pleasure.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  crowd,  I  was  at  first  rather  hard  run 
for  lodgings ;  but  at  length  was  lucky  enough  to  get 
a  mattrass  in  the  hut  of  a  very  honest  baker  of  my 
acquaintance,  who  often  visited  the  springs  for  the 
benefit  of  his  oven.  Being  the  only  man  of  the  trade 
on  the  turf,  and  well  skilled  in  the  science  of  dough, 
ne  met  with  no  small  encouragement :  and  it  was 
really  a  subject  of  surprize  to  see  the  heaps  of  English 
loaves,  Indian  pones,  French  bricks,  cakes,  and 
crackers,  which  lay  piled  on  his  counter  every 
morning.  I  often  amused  myself  in  marking  the 
various  airs  and  manners  of  the  different  waiters, 
who,  in  gay  liveries  and  shining  faces,  came  every 
morning,  rattling  down  their  silver,  and  tripping 
away  with  their  bread  by  the  basket.  Among  those 
gay  looking  sons  and  daughters  of  Africa,  1  saw 
every  now  and  then,  a  poor  Lazartte,  with  sallow 
cheek  and  hollow  eye,  slowly  creeping  to  the  do:>r, 
and  at  a  nod  from  the  baker,  eagerly  seize  a  fine  loaf 


810  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

and  bear  it  off  without  depositing  a  cent.  Surely, 
thought  I  to  myself,  this  baker  must  be  the  best  man, 
or  tlue  greatest  fool  in  the  world.  But  fearing  that 
this  latter  cap  best  fitted  his  pericranium,  I  one 
morning  could  not  help  breaking  my  mind  to  him,  foi 
crediting  his  bread  to  such  very  unpromising  dealers. 
"  Stophel,"  for  that  was  his  name,  "  you  seen*/'  said 
I,  "  to  sell  a  world  of  bread  here  every  day ;  but, 
notwithstanding  that,  I  fear  you  don't  gain  much  by 
it." 

"  No  !  'squire  ?  What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"  You  credit  too  much,  Stophel." 

"  Not  I  indeed,  sir,  not  I.    I  don't  credit  a  penny." 

"  Ay  !  how  do  you  make  that  out,  Stophel,  don't 
I  see  the  poor  people  every  day  carrying  away  your 
bread,  and  yet  paying  you  nothing  ?" 

"  Pshaw,  no  matter  for  that,  'squire.  They'll  pay 
me  all  in  a  lump  at  last." 

"At  last !  At  last !  Oh  ho,  at  the  last  day,  I  suppose 
you  mean,  Stophel;  when  you  have  the  conscience 
to  expect  that  God  Almighty  will  stand  paymaster 
and  wipe  off  all  your  old  scores  for  you,  at  a  dash." 

"  Oh  no  !  'squire,  we  poor  bakers  can't  give  such 
long  credit !  but  I'll  tell  you  how  we  work  the 
matter.  The  good  man  Colonel  George  Washing- 
ton is  here.  Every  season  as  soon  as  he  comes,  he 
calls  and  says  to  me,  <  Stophel,  you  seem  to  have  a 
great  deal  of  company ;  and  some,  I  fear,  who  don't 
come  here  for  pleasure,  and  yet,  you  know,  they 
can't  do  without  eating.  Though  pale  and  sickly, 
they  must  have  bread.  But  it  will  never  do  to  make 
them  pay  for  it.  Poor  creatures  !  they  seem  already 
low  spirited  enough  through  sickness  and  poverty. 
Their  spirits  must  not  be  sunk  lower  by  taking  from 
them  every  day  what  little  money  they  have  pinch- 
ed from  their  poor  families  at  home.  I'll  tell  you 
what's  to  be  done,  Stophel.  You  must  give  each  of 
them  a  good  hot  loaf  every  morning;  and  charge  it 
to  me.  When  I  am  going  away,  I'll  pay  you  a*l ? 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  21? 

And  believe  me,  'squire,  he  has  often,  at  the  end  ot 
the  season,  paid  me  as  much  as  80  dollars,  and  thai 
too  for  poor  creatures  who  did  not  know  the  hand 
that  fed  them ;  for  I  had  strict  orders  from  him  not 
to  mention  a  syllable  of  it  to  any  body." 

But  though  so  kind  to  the  bodies,  Washington  was 
still  more  kind  and  costly  in  his  charities  to  the  minds 
of  the  poor.  Sensible  that  a  republican  government, 
that  is,  a  government  of  the  people,  can  never  long 
subsist  where  the  minds  of  the  people  are  not 
enlightened,  he  earnestly  recommended  it  to  the 
citizens  of  the  United  States,  to  promote,  as  an  object 
of  primary  importance,  institutions  for  the  general 
diffusion  of  knowledge.  In  this,  as  indeed  in  all  othei 
cases  where  any  thing  great  or  good  was  to  be  done, 
Washington  led  the  way. 

He  established  a  chanty  school  in  Alexandria, 
and  endowed  it  with  a  donation  of  four  thousand 
dollars.  The  interest  was  regularly  paid  and  ex- 
pended on  the  education  of  fifteen  boys.  My  young 
friend,  the  reverend  Mr.  Wiley,  who,  for  talents, 
taste,  and  classical  erudition,  has  few  superiors  in 
America,  was  educated  by  Washington. 

In  1785,  the  assembly  of  his  native  state,  Virginia, 
"desirous  to  embrace,"  as  they  said, "every  suitable 
occasion  of  testifying  their  sense  of  the  unexampled 
merits  of  George  Washington,  Esq.,"  presented  him 
with  fifty  shares  in  the  Potomac,  and  one  hundred 
shares  in  the  James  River  Navigation  Company , 
making,  in  the  whole,  the  important  sum  of  ten 
thousand  pounds  sterling  ! 

Of  this  public  act,  they  requested  the  governor  to 
transmit  Washington  a  copy.  In  answer  he  address- 
ed a  letter  to  the  governor,  in  which,  «  I  take  the 
liberty,"  says  he,  "of  returning  to  the  general  assem- 
bly, through  your  hands,  the  profound  and  grateful 
acknowledgments  inspired  by  so  signal  a  mark  of 
their  beneficent  intentions  towards  me." 

He  g-oes  on  to  beg  that  they  would  excuse  his 
19  18 


818  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

determined  resolution  not  to  accept  a  farthing  of  it 
for  his  own  use — "  But,"  continued  he,  "  if  it  shou.d 
please  the  general  assembly  to  permit  me.  to  turn  the 
destination  of  the  fund  vested  in  me,  from  my  private 
emolument,  to  objects  of  a  public  nature,  it  shall  be 
my  study,  in  selecting,  to  prove  the  sincerity  of  my 
gratitude  for  the  honour  conferred  on  me,  by  prefer- 
ring such  as  may  appear  most  subservient  to  the 
enlightened  and  patriotic  view  of  the  legislature." 

They  were  cheerfully  submitted  to  his  disposal ; 
and,  according  to  promise,  he  appropriated  them  to 
works  of  the  greatest  utility:  viz:  his  shares  in  James 
River  canal,  to  a  college  in  Rockbridge  county,  near 
the  waters  of  James  River  ;  and  his  Potomac  shares 
to  a  national  university,  to  be  erected  in  the  federal 
district,  on  the  great  Potomac. 

How  noble  and  disinterested  were  his  wishes  for 
the  good  of  his  country!  As  if  incapable  of  being 
satisfied  with  all  that  he  had  done  for  her  while 
living,  he  endeavoured,  by  founding  those  noble 
institutions  for  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  and  virtue, 
to  make  himself  her  benefactor  when  he  should  cease 
to  live  in  this  sublunary  world. 

Since  the  idea  is  perfectly  correct,  that  the  great 
Governor  of  the  world  must  look  with  peculiar 
benignity  on  those  of  his  children  who  most  nearly 
resemble  him  in  benevolence,  may  we  not  indulge 
the  pleasing  hope,  that  these  colleges,  founded  by 
such  a  hand,  shall  prove  the  nurseries  of  the  bright- 
est genius  and  virtue;  and  that  from  their  sacred  halls 
will  proceed  in  endless  succession,  the  mighty  Wash- 
ingtons,  and  Jeffersons,  the  Franklins  and  Madisons 
of  future  times  !  0  that  Columbia  may  live  before 
God  !  and  that  the  bright  days  of  her  prosperity  may 
never  have  an  end  ! 

Washington's  behaviour  to  the  generous  Fayette 
3Ught  never  to  be  forgotten. 

When  that  glorious  young  nobleman  heard  that 
Lord  North  had  passed  against  America  ihe  decree 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  219 

of  slavery;  and  that  the  American  farmers  witn 
their  rusty  firelocks  and  pitchforks,  in  front  of  then 
shrieking  wives  and  children,  were  inch  by  inch 
disputing  the  soil  against  a  hireling  soldiery,  the  tears 
gushed  from  his  eyes.  He  tore  himself  from  the  arms 
of  the  loveliest,  fondest  of  wives ;  flew  to  his  sove- 
reign for  permission  to  fight ;  turned  into  powder  and 
arms  every  livre  that  he  could  raise  ;  and,  in  a  swift 
sailing  frigate  rushing  through  the  waves  to  America, 
presented  himself  before  Washington.  Washington, 
received  him  as  his  son,  and  gave  him  command, 
Under  the  eye  of  that  hero  he  fought  and  conquered. 
Having  aided  to  fix  the  independence  of  strangers, 
he  hastened  back  to  France,  to  liberate  his  own 
countrymen  from  the  curses  of  monarchy,  and  to 
give  them,  like  America,  the  blessings  of  a  repuolic. 
A  pupil  of  the  temperate  and  virtuous  Washington, 
he  soon  offended  the  hot  headed  demagogues  of 
France.  Banished  from  his  native  country,  he  was 
presently  thrown,  by  royal  jealousy,  into  a  foreign 
prison.  Most  of  us  here  in  America,  on  hearing  of 
his  misfortunes,  felt  the  kindly  touch  of  sympathy. 
But  alas  !  like  those  good  people  in  the  parable,  we 
were  so  taken  up  with  "buying  land,  trying  oxen, 
or  marrying  wives,"  that  we  forgot  our  noble  friend. 
But  Washington  did  not  forget  him.  His  thoughts 
were  often  with  him  in  his  gloomy  cell.  He  sent  him 
a  present  of  a  thousand  guineas — and  in  a  letter  to 
the  Emperor  of  Germany,  with  equal  delicacy  and 
feeling,  solicited  his  discharge,  and  permission  to 
come  to  America.  The  letter  concluded  with  these 
remarkable  words : — "  As  it  is  a  maxim  with  me 
never  to  ask  what,  under  similar  circumstances,  I 
would  not  grant,  your  majesty  will  do  me  the  justice 
to  believe,  that  this  request  appears  to  me  to  corres- 
pond with  those  great  principles  of  magnanimity 
and  wisdom  which  form  the  basis  of  sound  policy 
and  durable  glory." 
This  letter  produced,  in  part,  the  desired  effect 


220  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

For  immediately  after  the  receipt  of  it,  the  marquis 
experienced  a  great  increase  of  attention ;  and  in  a 
short  time  he  was  liberated.  Such  was  the  respect 
paid  to  our  American  farmer,  by  one  of  the  greatest 
monarchs  in  Europe. 

In  1795,  the  marquis's  son  made  his  escape  from 
France,  and  arrived  at  Boston.  Soon  as  Washington 
heard  of  it,  he  sent  his  parental  respects  to  the  youth, 
and  informed  him,  that,  though,  from  motives  of 
tenderness  to  his  mother,  who  was  in  the  po  rver  of 
the  directory,  he  could  not  be  seen  publicly  to  notice 
him,  yet  he  begged  to  be  considered  by  him  as  his 
father  and  protector — advised  him  to  enter  as  a  student 
in  the  university  near  Boston,  and  to  draw  on  him 
for  whatever  moneys  he  should  want. 

Congress,  on  hearing  that  a  son  of  the  noble  mar 
quis  was  in  America,  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  youth, 
and  ordered  an  immediate  inquiry  into  his  situation, 
intending  generous  things  for  him  out  of  the  national 
treasury.     But  finding  that  on  this,  as  on  all  othei 
occasions,  Washington  had  done  honour  to  the  Ame 
rican  name,  they  rejoiced  exceedingly,  and  let  the 
matter  drop. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WASHINGTON'S  CHARACTER  CONCLUDED. 
HIS    INDUSTRY. 

Awake,  my  boy  !  and  let  the  rising  sun 
Blush  to  see  his  vigilance  outdone  ; 
In  cheerful  works  consume  the  fleeting  day, 
Toil  thy  pleasure,  and  business  all  thy  play. 

BUT  of  all  the  virtues  that  adorned  the  life  of  this 
e;reat  man,  there  is  none  more  worthy  of  our  imitation 
than  his  admirable  industry.  It  is  to  this  virtue  <n 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  221 

her  Washington,  that  America  stands  indebted  for 
services  past  calculation  :  and  it  is  from  this  virtue, 
that  Washington  himself  snatched  a  wreath  of  glory 
that  will  never  fade  away.  0  that  the  good  genius  ot 
America  may  prevail !  that  the  example  of  this,  her 
favourite  son,  may  be  but  universally  adopted!  Soon 
shall  our  land  be  free  from  all  those  sloth-begotten 
demons  which  now  haunt  and  torment  us.  For 
whence  do  all  our  miseries  proceed,  but  from  lack 
of  industry  !  In  a  land  like  this,  which  heaven  has 
blessed  above  all  lands — a  land  abounding  with  the 
fish  and  flesh  pots  of  Egypt,  and  flowing  with  the 
choicest  milk  and  honey  of  Canaan — a  land  where  the 
poorest  Lazarus  may  get  his  fifty  cents  a  day  for  the 
commonest  labour — and  buy  the  daintiest  bread  of 
corn  flour  for  a  cent  a  pound !  why  is  any  man 
hungry,  or  thirsty,  or  naked,  or  in  prison  ?  why  but 
through  his  unpardonable  sloth  ? 

But  alas !  what  would  it  avail,  though  the  blest 
shade  of  Washington  were  to  descend  from  his  native 
skies,  and  with  an  angel's  voice,  recommend  industry 
as  the  handmaid  of  health,  wealth,  innocence,  and 
happiness  to  man.  A  notion,  from  the  land  of  lies, 
has  taken  too  deep  root  among  some,  that  "  labour  is 
a  low-lived  thing,  fit  for  none  but  poor  people  and 
slaves  !  and  that  dress  and  pleasure  are  the  only  ac- 
complishments for  a  gentleman  !  But  does  it  become 
a  gentleman  to  saunter  about,  living  on  the  charity 
of  his  relations — to  suffer  himself  to  be  dunned  by 
creditors,  and,  like  a  hunted  wolf,  to  fly  from  the  face 
of  sheriffs  and  constables  ?  Is  it  like  a  gentleman  to 
take  a  generous  woman  from  her  parents,  and  reduce 
her  to  beggary — to  see  even  her  bed  sold  from  under 
her,  and  herself  and  weeping  infants  turned  out  of 
doors  ?  It  is  like  a  gentleman  to  reduce  one's  children 
to  rags,  and  to  drive  them  like  birds  of  heaven,  to 
hedges  and  highways,  to  pick  berries,  filling  then 
pale  bloated  bodies  with  disease  ?  Or  is  it  like  a  gen- 
tleman to  bring  up  one's  sons  in  sloth,  pleasure,  and 
19*  18* 


222  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

dress,  as  young  noblemen,  and  then  leave  them  with- 
out estates,  profession,  or  trades,  to  turn  gamblers, 
sharpers,  or  horse  thieves  ?  "  From  such  gentlemen, 
oh  save  my  country,  Heaven  !"  was  Washington's 
perpetual  prayer,  the  emphatical  prayer  of  his  life  and 
great  example  !  In  his  ear,  wisdom  was  heard  inces- 
santly calling  aloud,  "  He  is  the  real  gentleman,  who 
cheerfully  contributes  his  every  exertion  to  accomplish 
heaven's  favourite  designs,  the  beauty,  order  and  hap- 
piness of  human  life ;  whose  industry  appears  in  a 
plentiful  house  and  smiling  wife  ;  in  the  decent  ap- 
parel of  his  children,  and  in  their  good  education 
and  virtuous  manners ;  who  is  not  afraid  to  see  any 
man  on  earth ;  but  meets  his  creditors  with  a  smiling 
countenance,  and  with  the  welcome  music  of  gold 
and  silver  in  his  hand ;  who  exerts  an  honest  indus- 
try for  wealth,  that  he  may  become  as  a  water-course 
in  a  thirsty  land,  a  source  of  refreshment  to  a  thous- 
and poor." 

This  was  the  life,  this  the  example  set  by  Wash- 
ington. His  whole  inheritance  was  but  a  small  tract 
of  poor  land  in  Stafford  county,  and  a  few  negroes. 
This  appearing  utterly  insufficient  for  those  purposes 
of  usefulness,  with  the  charms  of  which  his  mind 
seems  to  have  been  early  smitten,  he  resolved  to  make 
up  the  deficiency  by  dint  of  industry  and  economy .- 
For  these  virtues,  how  excellent !  how  rare  in  youth! 
Washington  was  admirably  distinguished  when  but 
a  boy.  At  a  time  when  many  young  men  have  no 
higher  ambition  than  a  fine  coat  and  a  frolic,  "  often 
have  I  seen  him  (says  the  reverend  Mr.  Le  Massey) 
riding  about  the  country  with  his  surveying  instru- 
ments at  his  saddle,"  enjoying  the  double  satisfaction 
of  obliging  his  fellow  citizens  by  surveying  their 
.ands,  and  of  making  money,  not  meanly  to  hoard, 
but  generously  to  lend  to  any  worthy  object  that 
asked  it.  This  early  industry  was  one  of  the  first 
steps  to  Washington's  preferment.  It  attracted  on 
him  the  notice  and  admiration  of  his  numerous  ac- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  283 

quaintance,  and,  which  was  still  more  in  his  favour, 
it  gave  such  uncommon  strength  to  his  constitution, 
such  vigour  to  his  mind,  such  a  spirit  for  adventure, 
that  he  was  ready  for  any  glorious  enterprize,  no 
matter  how  difficult  or  dangerous.  Witness  the  ex- 
pedition from  Williamsburg  through  the  Indian  coun- 
try to  the  Ohio,  which  at  the  green  age  of  twenty-one, 
he  undertook  for  Governor  Dinwiddie.  Indeed  this 
uncommon  attachment  to  industry  and  useful  life, 
made  such  an  impression  on  the  public  mind  in  his 
favour,  that  by  the  time  he  was  one  and  twenty  he 
was  appointed  major  and  adjutant-general  of  the 
Virginia  forces  in  the  Northern  Neck ! 

There  was  at  this  time  a  young  fellow  in  Williams- 
burg  by  the  name  of  Jack  B ,  who  possessed 

considerable  vivacity,  great  good-nature,  and  several 
accomplishments  of  the  bon  companion  sort.  He 
could  tell  a  good  story,  sing  agreeably,  scrape  a  little 
on  the  fiddle,  and  cut  as  many  capers  to  the  tune  of 
old  Roger,  as  any  buck  a-going  ;  and  being,  besides, 
a  young  fellow  of  fortune,  and  a  son  of  an  intimate 
acquaintance,  Jack  was  a  great  favourite  of  the  gov- 
ernor, and  much  at  his  house.  But  all  this  could  not 
save  poor  Jack  from  the  twinges  of  envy.  For,  on 
hearing  every  body  talk  in  praise  of  Major  Washing- 
tori,  he  could  not  help  saying  one  day  at  the  govern- 
or's table.  "  I  wonder  what  makes  the  people  so 
wrapped  up  in  major  Washington  :  I  think,  begging 
your  excellency's  pardon,  I  had  as  good  a  right  to  a 
major's  commission."  "  Ah,  Jack,"  replied  the  gov- 
ernor, "  when  we  want  diversion,  we  send  for  you. 
But  when  we  want  a  man  of  business,  we  send  for 
Major  Washington." 

Never  was  the  great  Alfred  more  anxious  to  im- 
prove his  lime  than  our  Washington  :  and  it  appears 
that,  like  Alfred,  he  divided  his  time  into  four  grand 
departments,  sleep, devotion,  recreation,  and  business. 
On  the  hours  of  buisness,  whether  in  his  own  or  his 
:ountry's  service,  he  would  allow  nothing  to  infringe. 


224  LIFE  OP  WASHINGTON. 

While  in  camp,  no  company,  however  illustrious—- 
no pleasures,  however  elegant — no  conversation, how- 
ever agreeable — could  prevai.  on  him  to  neglect  his 
business.  The  moment  that  his  hour  of  duty  was 
come,  he  would  fill  his  glass,  and  with  a  smi-le,  call 
out  his  friends  around  the  social  board,  "  well,  gen- 
tlemen, here  is  bon  repos,"  and  immediately  with- 
draw to  business.  Bon  repos  is  a  French  cant  for 
good  night.  Washington  drank  it  as  a  signal  to  break 
up  ;  for  the  moment  the  company  had  swallowed  the 
general's  bon  repos,  it  was  hats  and  off.  General 
Wayne,  who,  happily  for  America,  understood  right- 
ing better  than  French,  had  some  how  or  other  taken 
up  a  notion,  than  this  same  bon  repos,  to  whom 
Washington  made  such  conscience  of  giving  his  last 
bumper,  must  have  been  some  great  warrior  of  the 
times  of  old.  Having,  by  some  extraordinary  luck, 
gotten  hold  of  two  or  three  dozen  of  good  old  wine, 
he  invited  a  parcel  of  hearty  fellow-officers  to  dine 
with  him,  and  help  him  to  break  them  to  the  health 
of  America.  Soon  as  the  cloth  was  removed,  and 
the  bottles  on  the  table,  the  hero  of  Stony  Point  cried 
out,  "come  my  brave  fellows,  fill  your  glass;  here's 
old  bon  repos  for  ever."  The  officers  were  thunder- 
struck :  but  having  tured  off  their  wine,  rose  up,  one 
and  all  to  go.  "  Hey  day !  what's  all  this,  gentlemen  ? 
what's  all  this  ?"  "  Why,"  replied  they,  did  not  you 
drink  bon  repos,  or  good  night  ?" 

«  What !  is  that  the  meaning  of  it  ?"  «  Yes,"  "  Oh ! 
then,  damn  old  bon  repos,  and  take  your  seats  again : 
for,  by  the  life  of  Washington,  you  shan't  stir  a  peg 
till  we  have  started  every  drop  of  our  wine." 

While  he  was  employed  in  choosing  a  place  on 
the  Potomac,  for  the  federal  city,  his  industry  was 
no  less  remarkable.  Knowing  how  little  is  generally 
done  before  breakfast,  he  made  it  a  rule  to  rise  so 
early  as  to  have  breakfast  over,  and  be  on  horseback 
by  the  time  the  sun  was  up.  Let  the  rising  genera- 
tion remember  that  he  was  then  sixty  years  of  age  ' 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  225 

On  his  farm,  his  husbandry  of  time  was  equally 
exemplary.  He  contemplated  a  great  object:  an 
object  worthy  of  Washington.  He  aimed  at  teaching 
nis  countrymen  the  art  of  enriching  their  lands,  and 
consequently  of  rendering  the  condition  of  man  and 
beast  more  plentiful  and  happy.  He  had  seen  thou- 
sands of  acres,  which,  by  constant  cultivation,  had 
lost  the  power  of  covering  their  nakedness  even  with 
a  suit  of  humble  sedge.  He  had  seen  thousands  of 
wretched  cattle,  which,  driven  out  houseless  and  hay- 
less  into  the  cold  wintry  rains,  presented  such  trem- 
bling spectacles  of  starvation  and  misery,  as  were 
enough  to  start  the  tear  into  Pity's  eye.  To  remedy 
these  cruel  evils  (which  certainly  they  are,  for  He 
who  lent  us  these  animals  never  meant  that  we  should 
make  their  lives  a  curse  to  them,  much  less  to  our 
children,  hardened  by  such  daily  sights  of  misery,) 
Washington  generously  set  himself  to  make  artificial 
meadows;  to  cultivate  fields  of  clover;  and  to  raise 
the  most  nutricious  vegetables,  such  as  cabbage,  tur- 
nips, scarcity  and  potatoes ;  of  which  last  article  he 
planted  in  one  year  700  bushels!  To  render  these 
vast  supplies  of  food  the  more  beneficial  to  his  cattle, 
ne  built  houses  of  shelter  for  them  all.  «  He  showed 
me  a  barn,"  says  Brissot,  "upwards  of  100  feet 
square,  and  of  brick,  designed  as  a  store-house  for  his 
corn,  potatoes,  turnips,  &c.  around  which  he  had 
constructedstables  of  an  amazing  length,  for  his  cattle." 
Every  one  of  them  had  a  stall  well  littered  with 
leaves  or  straw ;  and  a  rack  and  manger  well  fur- 
nished with  hay  and  provender. 

The  pleasure  and  profits  arising  from  such  an  ai- 
rangement  are  incalculable.  How  delicious  must  it 
have  been  to  a  man  of  Washington's  feelings,  to 
reflect  that,  even  in  the  very  worst  weather,  every 
creature,  on  his  extensive  farms,  was  warmly  and 
comfortably  provided ;  to  have  seen  his  numerous 
flocks  and  herds,  gamboling  around  him  through 
i-xcess  of  joy,  and  fullness  of  fat ;  to  have  beheld  his 


826  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

steps  washed  with  butter,  and  his  dairies  floated  with 
rivers  of  milk ;  to  have  seen  his  once  naked  fields  and 
frog-croaking  swamps,  now,  by  clearance  or  manure, 
converted  into  meadows,  standing  thick  with  heavy 
crops  of  timothy  and  sweet  scented  clover ;  while  his 
farm-yards  were  piled  with  such  quantities  of  litter 
and  manure  as  afforded  a  constantly  increasing  fer- 
tility to  his  lands. 

Here  was  an  employment  worthy  of  Washington ; 
an  employment,  which  we  might  indeed  have  ex- 
pected from  him,  who,  through  life,  had  studied  the 
best  interests  of  his  countrymen  ;  who,  first  as  a  sol- 
dier, had  defended  them  from  slavery,  and  crowned 
them  with  liberty ;  then,  as  a  statesman,  had  pre- 
served them  from  war,  and  secured  to  them  the  bles- 
sings of  peace  ;  and  now  as  the  last,  but  not  the  least 
services  of  his  life,  was  teaching  them  the  great  arts 
of  improving  their  farms,  multiplying  their  cattle, 
enriching  their  lands,  and  thus  pouring  a  flood  of 
plenty  and  of  comfort  through  the  joyful  habitations 
of  man  and  beast. 

Full  of  the  greatly  benevolent  idea,  no  wonder  that 
ne  was  so  frugal  of  his  time.  Though  the  most  hos- 
pitable of  all  the  hospitable  Virginians,  he  would  not 
suffer  the  society  of  his  dearest  friends  to  take  him 
from  his  business.  Long  accustomed  to  find  his 
happiness  in  doing  his  duty,  he  had  attained  to  such 
a  royal  arch  degree  of  virtue,  as  to  be  restless  and 
uneasy  while  his  duty  was  neglected.  Hence,  of  all 
that  ever  lived,  Washington  was  the  most  rigidly 
observant  of  those  hours  of  business  which  weie 
necessary  to  the  successful  management  of  his  vast 
concerns.  "  Gentlemen,  (he  would  often  say  to  his 
friends  who  visited  him)  1  must  beg  leave  of  absence 
a  few  hours  in  the  forenoon:  here  is  plenty  of  amuse- 
ments, books,  music,  &c.  Consider  yourselves  a* 
home,  and  be  happy."  He  came  in  about  twelve, 
o'clock ;  and  then,  as  if  animated  by  the  conscious- 
ness of  having  done  his  duty,  and  that  all  was  going 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  227 

right,  would  give  himself  up  to  his  friends  aad  to 
decent  mirth  the  rest  of  the  day. 

But  his  mornings  were  always  his  own.  Lon£ 
before  the  sun  peeped  into  the  chambers  of  the  slug 
gard,  Washington  was  on  horseback,  and  out  among 
his  overseers  and  servants:  and  neither  himself  nor 
any  about  him  were  allowed  to  eat  the  bread  of  idle- 
ness. The  happy  effects  of  such  industry  were  ob- 
vious. Well  manured  and  tilled,  his  lands  yielded  a 
grateful  return  :  and  it  was  at  once  pleasing  and  as- 
tonishing to  behold  the  immense  quantities  of  fine  hay, 
of  fat  cattle,  and  choice  grain,  that  were  raised  on  his 
farms ;  of  wheat  7000  bushels  in  one  year,  and  5000 
oushels  of  Indian  corn  !  His  servants  fared  plentiful- 
.y.  His  cattle  never  had  the  hollow  horn.  And  the 
surplus  of  his  prudence,  sold  to  the  merchants,  furnish- 
ed bread  to  the  needy,  and  a  revenue  to  himself  more 
than  sufficient  to  defray  his  vast  expenditures,  and  to 
spread  a  table  of  true  Virginian  hospitality  for  those 
crowds  of  friends  and  foreigners  whom  affection  or 
curiosity  led  to  visit  him. 

Oh  !  divine  Industry !  queen  mother  of  all  our 
virtues  and  of  all  our  blessings !  what  is  there  of 
great  or  of  good  in  this  wide  world  that  springs  not 
from  thy  royal  bounty  ?  And  thou,  0  !  infernal  Sloth! 
fruitful  fountain  of  all  our  crimes  and  and  curses ! 
what  is  there  of  mean  or  of  miserable  in  the  lot  of 
man  that  flows  not  from  thy  hellish  malice? 

What  was  it  that  betrayed  David,  otherwise  the 
best  of  kings,  into  the  worst  of  crimes?  Idleness. 
Sauntering  about  idly  on  the  terrace  of  his  palace,  he 
beheld  the  naked  beauties  of  the  distant  Bathsheba. 
Lust,  adultery,  and  murder  were  the  consequences. 

What  was  it  that  brought  on  a  ten  year's  war  be- 
tween the  Greeks  and  Trojans?  Idleness.  Young 
Paris,  the  coxcomb  of  Troy,  having  nothing  to  do, 
strolls  over  to  the  court  of  Menelaus  (a  Greek  prince) 
whose  beauteous  wife,  Helen,  the  black-eyed  queen 
of  love,  he  corrupts  and  carries  off  to  Troy.  A 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

bloody  war  ensues.  Paris  is  slain.  His  father,  bro- 
thers, and  myriads  of  wretched  subjects  are  slaugh- 
tered :  and  Troy,  the  finest  city  of  Asia,  is  reduced 
to  ashes ! 

What  was  it  that  hurried  poor  Mr.  A d  to  that 

horrid  act  of  suicide,  which  froze  the  blood  of  all  who 
heard  it  ?  Idleness.  His  young  wife,  with  all  that 
we  could  conceive  of  sweetness,  tenderness,  and  truth 
in  an  angel's  form ;  and  his  three  beauteous  babes 
were  the  three  graces  in  smiling  infancy.  But  oh, 
wretched  man  !  having  nothing  to  do  !  he  strolled  to 
a  tavern,  and  to  a  card  table,  where  he  lost  his  all ! 
five  thousand  pounds,  lately  settled  on  him  by  a  fond 
father  !  He  awakes  to  horrors  unutterable !  What 
will  become  of  his  ruined  wife  !  his  beggared  babes  ? 
Believing  his  torments  little  inferior  to  those  of  the 
damned,  he  seizes  the  fatal  pistol ;  drives  the  scorch- 
ing bullet  through  his  brains ;  and  flies  a  shrieking 
ghost  to  join  the  mournful  throng  ! 

0  sad  sight  !  see  yon  tall  young  man,  in  powder 
and  ruffles,  standing  before  his  judges,  trembling  like 
an  aspen,  and  pale  and  blank  as  the  picture  of  guilt; 
while  the  crowded  court  house,  every  countenance 
filled  with  pity  or  contempt,  is  fixed  upon  him.  Alas! 
what  could  have  brought  him  to  this?  Idleness.  His 
fathe*-  happening  to  possess  500  acres  of  poor  land, 
and  a  few  negroes,  thought  it  would  be  an  eternal 
disgrace  to  his  family  to  bring  up  his  son,  (though  he 
had  many,)  to  be  a  mechanic.  No :  he  must  be  a 
gentleman  !!  Grown  to  man's  estate,  and  having  no 
profession,  trade,  or  habit  of  industry  to  support  this 
pleasant  life,  he  took  to  horse-stealing.  If  we  had 
leisure  to  wait,  we  snould  presently  see  this  unhappy 
youth,  on  receiving  sentence  of  death,  bursting  into 
sobs  and  cries  sufficient  to  make  us  wish  he  had 
never  been  born.  But  let  us  leave  these  horrible 
scenes  of  shame,  misery,  and  death,  ir*o  which  idle- 
ness never  fails  to  bring  poor  deluded  youth,  and 
joyfully  return  to  our  beloved  Washington,  and 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

to  his  health,  weaTth,  and  glory-giving  goddess, 
[ndustry. 

What  is  it  that  braces  the  nerves,  purifies  the 
blood,  and  hands  down  the  flame  of  life,  bright  and 
sparkling,  to  old  age  ?  What,  but  rosy  checked 
Industry.  See  Washington  so  invigorated  by  con- 
stant exercise,  that,  though  hereditarily  subject  to  the 
gout,  of  which  all  his  family  died,  he  entirely  escaped 
it ;  and,  even  at  the  age  of  66,  continued  straight  and 
active  as  a  young  grenadier,  and  ready  once  more  at 
his  country's  call,  to  lead  her  eager  warriors  to  the 
field. 

What  is  it  that  preserves  the  morals  of  young  men 
unsoiled,  and  secures  the  blessings  of  unblemished 
character  and  unbroken  health  ?  What,  but  snow- 
robed  industry  ?  See  Washington  under  the  guard- 
ianship of  industry,  walking  the  slippery  paths  of 
youth,  safe  and  uncorrupted,  though  born  in  a 
country  whose  fertility  and  climate  furnished  both 
the  means  and  invitation  to  vice.  Early  smitten 
with  the  love  of  glory ;  early  engaged  in  the  noble 
pursuit  of  knowledge,  of  independence,  and  of  use- 
fulness ;  he  had  no  eyes  to  see  bad  examples,  nor 
ensnaring  objects  ;  no  ears  to  hear  horrid  oaths,  nor 
obscene  language ;  no  leisure  for  impure  passions  nor 
criminal  amours.  Hence  he  enjoyed  that  purity  of 
soul,  which  is  rightly  called  its  sunshine ;  and  which 
impressed  a  dignity  on  his  character,  and  gave  him  a 
beauty  and  loveliness  in  the  eyes  of  men,  that  contri- 
buted more  to  his  rise  in  the  world,  than  young  peo- 
ple can  readily  conceive. 

And  what  is  it  that  raises  a  young  man  from 
poverty  to  wealth,  from  obscurity  to  never-dying 
fame  ?  What,  but  industry  ?  See  Washington, 
born  of  humble  parents,  and  in  humble  circumstan- 
ces— born  in  a  narrow  nook  and  obscure  corner  of 
the  British  plantations  !  yet  lo  !  What  great  things 
wonder-working  industry  can  bring  out  of  this  un- 
promising Nazareth.  While  but  a  youth,  he  mani- 
20  19 


j{30  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Tested  such  a  nob.e  contempt  of  sloth,  such  a  manly 
spirit  to  be  always  learning  or  doing  something  use- 
ful or  clever,  that  he  was  the  praise  of  all  who  knew 
him.  And,  though  but  1.5,  so  high  were  the  hopes 
entertained  of  him,  he  was  appointed  a  surveyor ! 
\rduous  task  !  But  his  industry  was  a  full  match 
for  it.  Such  was  the  alertness  with  which  he  carried 
on  his  survey  ;  such  the  neatness  and  accuracy  of  his 
plats  and  drafts,  that  he  met  with  universal  applause 
Full-fed  and  flushed  with  so  much  fare  of  praise,  a 
fare  of  all  others  the  most  toothsome  and  wholesome 
to  generous  minds,  our  young  eagle  began  to  flap  his 
wings  of  honest  ambition,  and  to  pant  for  nobler 
darings.  A  fair  occasion  was  soon  offered — a  dan- 
gerous expedition  through  the  Indian  wilds,  as 
already  mentioned,  to  the  French  Mamelukes  on  the 
Ohio.  Nobody  else  having  ambition  for  such  an 
adventure,  Washington's  offer  was  pladly  accepted. 
And  he  executed  that  hazardous  and  important  trust 
with  such  diligence  and  propriety,  that  he  received 
the  thanks  of  the  governor  and  council.  Honours 
came  down  on  him  now  in  showers.  He  was  ap- 
pointed major  and  adjutant-general  of  the  Virginia 
forces  ;  then  a  colonel;  afterwards  a  member  of  the 
house  of  burgesses;  next,  generalissimo  of  the  armies 
of  the  United  States;  and,  finally,  chief  magistrate 
of  the  Union.  All  these  floods  of  prosperity  and 
honour,  which  in  thousands  would  have  but  served 
to  bloat  with  lust  or  pride,  with  him  served  but  the 
more  to  rouse  his  industry,  and  to  enlarge  his  use- 
fulness ;  for  such  was  his  economy  of  time,  and  so 
admirable  his  method  and  regularity  of  business,  that 
he  always  kept  a-head  of  it.*  No  letters  of  conse- 

*  He  was  taken  ill  on  Friday.  An  intimate  friend  asked  him  if  hi 
wished  to  have  any  thing  done  on  the  arrangement  of  his  temporal 
affairs.  He  shook  his  head,  and  replied,  "  No,  I  thank  you  ;  for  my 
books  are  all  posted  to  Tuesday  !"  Thac  industry  and  method  must 
be  truly  astonishing,  which  in  the  management  of  possessions  so  vast 
and  complicated  as  his,  kept  every  thing  so  harmoniously  adjusted,  aa 
to  In;  ic. uly,  at  a  moment's  warning,  to  leave  the  world  for  ever  with 
-•>ul  a  wi.sli  to  alter  a  tittle. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  231 

quence  were  unanswered.  No  reasonable  expecta 
tions  were  disappointed.  No  necessary  information 
was  ever  neglected.  Neither  the  congress,  nor  the 
governors  of  the  several  states,  nor  the  officers  of  his 
army,  nor  the  British  generals,  nor  even  the  over- 
seers and  stewards  on  his  farms,  were  uninformed 
what  he  expected  from  them.  Nobody  concerned 
with  him  was  idle  or  fretted  for  want  of  knowing 
what  to  do. 

0  admirable  man  !  0  great  preceptor  to  his 
country  !  no  wonder  every  body  honoured  him  who 
honoured  every  body ;  for  the  poorest  beggar  that 
wrote  to  him  on  business,  was  sure  to  receive  a 
speedy  and  decisive  answer.  No  wonder  every  body 
loved  him,  who,  by  his  unwearied  attention  to  the 
public  good,  manifested  the  tenderest  love  for  every 
body.  No  wonder  that  his  country  delighted  to 
honour  him,  who  shewed  such  a  sense  of  her  honours 
that  he  would  not  allow  even  a  leaf  of  them  to 
wither ;  but  so  watered  them  all  with  the  refreshing 
streams  of  industry,  that  they  continued  to  bloom 
with  ever-increasing  glory  on  his  head. 

Since  the  day  that  God  created  man  on  the  earth, 
none  ever  displayed  the  power  of  industry  more  sig- 
nally than  did  George  Washington.  Had  he,  as 
prince  of  Wales,  or  as  dauphin  of  France  rendered 
such  great  services,  or  attained  such  immortal 
honours,  it  would  not  have  seemed  so  marvellous  in 
our  eyes.  But  that  a  poor  young  man,  with  neither 
king,  lords,  nor  commons  to  back  him — with  no 
princes,  nor  strumpets  of  princes,  to  curry  favour  for 
him — with  no  gold  but  his  virtue,  no  silver  but  his 
industry,  should,  with  this  old-fashioned  coin,  have 
stolen  away  the  hearts  of  all  the  American  Israel,  and 
from  a  sheep-cot  have  ascended  the  throne  of  his 
country's  affections,  and  acquired  a  name  above  the 
mighty  ones  of  the  earth  !  this  is  marvellous  indeed! 
It  is  surely  the  noblest  panegyric  ever  yet  paid  to 
that  gre^t  virtue,  industry,  which  has  "length  of  dayi 


SS&  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

in  her  light  hand;  and  in  her  left  hand  riches  and 
honours." 

Young  reader!  go  thy  way;  think  of  Washington; 
and  HOPE.  Though  humble  thy  birth,  low  thy  for- 
tune, and  few  thy  friends,  still  think  of  Washington  ; 
and  HOPE.  Like  him,  honour  thy  God  ;  and  delight 
in  glorious  toil.  Then,  like  him,  "  thou  shall  stand 
before  kings.  Thou  shall  not  stand  before  common 
men." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

WASHINGTON'S  CHARACTER  CONTINUED. 
HIS    PATRIOTISM. 

"  O  eternal  King  of  men  and  angels,  elevate  OUT  minds !  each  low 
and  partial  passion  thence  dispel !  till  this  great  truth  in  every 
heart  be  known,  that  none  but  those  who  aid  the  public  cause,  can 
shield  their  country  or  themselves  from  chains." 

LIQUID  AS. 

IN  this  grand  republican  virtue,  we  can  with 
pleasure  compare  our  Washington  with  the  greatest 
worthies  of  ancient  or  modern  times. 

The  patriotism  of  the  Roman  emperor,  Alexan- 
der, has  been  celebrated  through  all  ages,  because  he 
was  never  known  to  give  any  place  through  favour 
or  friendship ;  but  employed  those  only  whom  he  be- 
lieved to  be  the  best  qualified  to  serve  his  country. 
In  our  Washington  we  meel  this  great  and  honest 
emperor  again.  For  in  choosing  men  to  serve  his 
country,  Washington  knew  no  recommendation  but 
merit — had  no  favourite  but  worth.  No  relations, 
however  near — no  friends,  however  dear — stood  any 
chance  for  places  under  him,  provided  he  knew  men 
better  qualified.  Respecting  such  men,  he  never 
troubled  himself  to  inquire,  whether  they  wsre 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  233 

foreigners  or  natives,  federalists  or  democrats.  Some 
of  the  young  officers  of  his  native  state,  on  hearing 
that  colonel  Washington  was  made  COMMANDER  IN 
CHIEF,  were  prodigiously  pleased,  expecting  to  be 
made  field  officers  immediately.  But  in  this  they 
were  so  utterly  mistaken,  that  some  of  them  have 
foolishly  said,  "it  was  a  misfortune  to  be  a  Virginian." 
Indeed,  his  great  soul  was  so  truly  repullican,  that, 
during  the  whole  of  his  administration,  he  was  never 
known  to  advance  an  individual  of  his  own  name 
and  family. 

The  British,  with  good  reason,  admire  and  extol 
admiral  Blake  as  one  of  the  bravest  and  best  of 
patriots ;  because,  though  he  disliked  Oliver  Crom- 
well, yet  he  fought  gallantly  under  him ;  and,  with 
his  dying  breath,  exhorted  his  men,  "  to  love  their 
country  as  a  common  mother ;  and,  no  matter  what 
hands  the  government  might  fall  into,  to  fight  for  her 
like  good  children." 

Of  the  same  noble  spirit  was  Washington.  Often 
was  he  called  to  obey  men  greatly  his  inferiors,  and 
to  execute  orders  which  he  entirely  disapproved. 
But  he  was  never  known  to  falter.  Sensible  of  the 
infinite  importance  of  union  and  order  to  the  good  of 
his  country,  he  ever  yielded  a  prompt  obedience  to 
her  delegated  will.  And,  not  content  with  setting  us, 
through  life,  so  fair  an  example,  he  leaves  us  at  his 
death,  this  blessed  advice :  "Your  government  claims 
your  utmost  confidence  and  support.  RESPECT  for 
its  AUTHORITY,  compliance  with  its  laws,  acquiescence 
in  its  measures,  are  duties  enjoined  by  the  funda 
mental  maxims  of  TRUE  LIBERTY.  The  basis  of  our 
po.itical  system  is  the  right  of  the  people  to  make  and 
alter  their  constitutions  of  government.  But  the 
constitution,  which  at  any  time  exists,  until  changed 
by  an  explicit  and  authentic  act  of  the  whole  people, 

is  SACREDLY    OBLIGATORY    UPON    ALL." 

History  has  lavished  its  choicest  praises  on  those 
magnanimous  patriots,  who,  in  their  wars  for  liberty 
20*  19* 


«34  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

and  their  country,  have  cheerfully  saciificed  their 
own  wealth  to  defeat  the  common  enemy. 

Equal  to  this  was  the  spirit  of  Washington.  For, 
during  the  war,  while  he  was  with  the  army  to  the 
north,  a  British  frigate  came  up  the  Potomac,  to 
Mount  Vernon  ;  and  threatened  to  lay  the  place  in 
ashes,  if  provisions  were  not  instantly  sent  on  board 
To  save  that  venerable  mansion,  the  manager  sent 
aboard  the  requisite  supplies.  On  hearing  the  mat- 
ter, Washington  wrote  his  manager  the  following 
letter  : 

"  Sir — It  gives  me  extreme  concern  to  hear  that 
you  furnished  the  enemy  with  refreshments.  It 
would  have  been  a  less  painful  circumstance  to  me, 
to  have  heard,  that  in  consequence  of  your  non-com- 
pliance with  their  request,  they  had  laid  my  planta- 
tion in  ruins. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 

But,  among  all  his  splendid  acts  of  patriotism,  there 
is  none  which,  with  so  little  noise,  may  do  us  more 
good,  than  his  "  Legacy,  or  Farewell  to  the  People 
of  the  United  States."  In  this  admirable  bequest, 
like  a  true  teacher  sent  from  God,  he  dwells  chiefly 
on  our  union  and  brotherly  love.  This,  the  first  birth 
of  true  religion,  appears  to  him  as  the  one  thing 
needful,  the  spring  of  political  life,  and  bond  of  per- 
fection. 

On  this  topic  he  employs  all  the  energies  of  his 
mind :  and,  in  words  worthy  to  be  written  in  gold, 
emphatically  beseeches  his  countrymen  to  guard 
with  holiest  care  "  the  unity  of  the  government,"  as 
the  •*  main  pillar  and  palladium  of  their  liberty,  their 
independence,  and  every  thing  most  dear  to  them  on 
earth." 

Little  did  that  illustrious  patriot  suspect,  that,  in 
so  short  a  time  after  his  death,  the  awful  idea  of  dis- 
union should  have  become  familiar  to  the  public  eye 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  235 

— so  familiar  as  to  have  worn  off  half  its  horrors  from 
the  minds  of  many  of  our  deluded  citizens  !  Disunion ! 
Merciful  God  !  what  good  man  can  think  of  it  but 
as  of  treason,  and  as  a  very  Pandora's  box,  replete 
with  every  curse  that  can  give  up  our  dear  country 
to  desolation  and  havoc  ! 

This  disorganizing  scheme  has  been  three  times 
brought  forward,  by  what  Washington  terms  "cun 
ning,  ambitious,  and  unprincipled  men,"  making  use 
of  a  thousand  irts  to  shut  the  eyes  of  the  citizens  on 
that  yawning  gulph  to  which  they  were  so  wickedly 
misleading  them.  And  each  time,  Lucifer-like,  these 
ministers  of  darkness  have  clothed  themselves  over 
as  «  angels  of  light"  with  the  captivating  plea  of 
public  good. — "  The  disadvantages  of  the  union  !  the 
disadvantages  of  the  union  ?"  is  their  constant  cry. 
Now  admitting  it  to  be  true,  that  this  so  much  hated 
union  has  its  disadvantages,  (and  where  is  there  any 
human  institution,  even  the  noblest,  that  is  free  from 
them  ?)  yet  is  it  not  the  parent  of  blessings  so  many 
and  great,  that  no  good  man,  as  Washington  says, 
"  can  think  of  them  without  gratitude  and  rejoicing?" 
and  is  it  not  equally  true,  that  these  disadvantages  of 
the  union  would  not,  in  fifty  years,  equal  the  ruinous 
consequence  of  a  disunion,  in  probably  half  a  year. 

At  present,*  the  plea  for  this  most  horrible  mea- 
sure, is  the  mischievous  effects  of  the  embargo. — 
Well,  grant  that  it  is  mischievous,  highly  mischievous 
and  painful,  for  such  we  all  feel  it,  yet  how  inexpres- 
sibly absurd  it  must  be,  to  put  the  loss  of  trade,  for 
a  year  or  two,  in  competition  with  the  peace  and 
happiness,  the  independence  and  sovereignty  of  our 
country  ?  Would  not  this  be  an  act  a  thousand  times 
more  mad  and  wicked  than  that  of  the  wretched 
Esau,  who,  to  remove  the  cravings  of  a  momentary 
appetite,  sold  his  birth-right  for  a  mess  of  pottage  ! 

At  this  day,  through  the  great  mercies  of  God,  we 

•  This  was  written  Anno  Domini,  1800 


836  LIFE   3F  WASHINGTON. 

have  cause  to  consider  ourselves  the  happiest  nation 
on  eaith. — List !  oh  list ! 

For  many  years  past  the  greater  part  of  Christen- 
dom has  been  involved  in  all  the  horrors  of  the  most 
bloody  and  destructive  wars.  Their  kings  and  queens 
have  been  rudely  hurled  from  their  thrones  :  and  the 
"honourable  men  and  the  princes,"  verifying  the 
mournful  language  of  ancient  prophecy,  have  been 
seen  embracing  the  dung-hill,  or  flying  from  their 
distracted  countries :  while  the  mass  of  the  people, 
unable  to  fly,  have  been  crushed  to  the  earth  with 
tythes  and  taxes — with  impressments  and  conscrip- 
tions— with  forced  loans  and  arbitrary  requisitions— 
with  martial  law,  administered  by  military  judges, 
with  the  bayonet  at  the  breast  of  the  citizens !  On 
the  other  hand,  during  all  these  horrid  convulsions 
and  miseries  of  other  nations,  we,  thoughtless,  thank- 
less we,  have  enjoyed  all  the  blessings  of  peace, 
plenty,  and  security.  Our  persons  have  been  free 
from  the  violence  of  impressments  and  conscriptions; 
and  our  lives  and  property  perfectly  safe  under  the 
nightly  staves  of  a  few  old  watchmen  !  while  othei 
nations  have  been  over-run  with  devouring  armies, 
and  doomed  to  see  their  houses  in  flames,  and  the 
garments  of  their  children  rolled  in  blood,  we,  like 
favoured  Israel,  have  been  sitting  under  our  vine  and 
fig-tree,  none  daring  to  make  us  afraid.  We  have 
been  advancing  in  riches  and  strength,  with  a  rapidity 
unequalled  in  the  history  of  man.  We  have  been 
progressing  in  arts,  manufactures,  and  commerce,  to 
an  extent  and  success  that  has  astonished  the  most 
enlightened  Europeans :  and  even  at  this  moment, 
while  suffering  under  the  privations  of  the  embargo, 
we  are  feasted  with  every  necessary,  and  enjoying 
many  of  the  elegancies  of  life. 

And  yet,  with  so  many  substantial  blessings  in  oui 
hands,  with  so  much  heaven-sent  manna  in  our  mouths, 
like  ungrateful  Israel,  we  are  mourning  for  lack  of 
European  luxuries  (as  they  did  for  the  Egyptian 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  237 

flesh-pots,)  luxuries  which  we  once  enjoyed,  but  are 
now  most  unjustly  deprived  of  by  our  brethren,  the 
nations  of  Europe,  who  are  stronger  than  we.  And 
as  if  that  were  not  a  sufficient  evil — as  if  it  were  not 
grievous  enough  to  suffer  such  a  hindrance  in  trade/ 
agriculture,  and  business  of  all  kinds — we  are  now 
threatened  with  one,  in  comparison  of  which  our  pre- 
sent privations  are  insignificant — one  which  of  all 
others,  Washington  most  dreaded,  and  was  most 
startled  at,  I  mean  a  separation  of  the  states,  and 
consequently,  civil  war. 

This  dreadful  consequence  is  as  obvious  as  it  is 
dreadful.  Yes,  it  is  most  obvious,  that  the  separation 
of  the  states  can  never  take  place  without  civil  war. 
For  if  the  states,  disposed  to  separate,  were  unani- 
mous in  the  attempt,  the  general  government  could 
not  look  idly  on  their  apostacy,  but  must  resist  it ! 
and  to  that  end  must  call  out  the  force  of  the  rest  of 
the  union  to  crush  it.  And  here,  merciful  God ! 
what  scenes  are  rising  before  the  eyes  of  horror-struck 
imagination?  A  whole  nation  suddenly  filled  with 
terror ;  "  men's  hearts  failing  them  for  fear,  and  for 
looking  to  those  things  that  are  coming  on  the  land" 
— the  drums  and  instruments  of  war  beginning  to 
sound — the  warriors'  guns  and  swords  preparing ; 
not  for  cheerful  defence  of  liberty  and  country,  which 
would  make  war  glorious  ;  but  for  the  gloomy  and 
infernal  work  of  civil  discord.  Sisters,  mute  with 
grief,  and  looking  through  swelling  tears,  on  their 
brothers,  as  they  gird  on  the  hated  swords — wives, 
shaking  with  strong  fits,  and,  with  their  little  child- 
ren, filling  their  houses  with  lamentations  for  hus- 
bands and  fathers  tearing  themselves  away  for  the 
dismal  war,  whence  they  are  to  return  no  more ! 
while  aged  parents,  at  parting  with  their  sons, 
express  the  deep  grief  only  in  groans !  or,  wringing 
their  withered  hands,  with  tearful  eyes  to  heaven, 
implore  a  speedy  grave  to  put  their  griefs  to  rest. 

But  all  this  is  but  the  beginning  of  sorrows.     Foi 


838  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

who  can  paint  the  scenes  which  ensue  when  the  two 
armies  meet?  when  they  meet,  not  in  the  liberal  spirit 
of  stranger  troops,  who,  fighting  merely  for  honour 
and  pay,  are  ready,  in  the  first  moment  of  victory, 
to  sheath  their  swords,  and  to  treat  the  vanquished 
with  humanity  and  politeness ;  but  in  all  the  bitter- 
ness and  exterminating  spirit  of  a  family  quarrel, 
where  men,  after  numberless  acts  of  the  blackest 
slander  and  of  rancorous  hate,  having  done  every 
thing  to  destroy  each  other's  souls,  are  now  come 
together  to  destroy  each  other's  bodies.  Hence,  the 
moment  the  ill-fated  parties  meet,  their  fierce  re- 
vengeful passions  take  fire:  scarce  can  they  wait  the 
trumpet's  dreadful  signal.  Then,  rushing  on  each 
other,  more  like  demons  than  men,  they  thrust  and 
stab,  and  shout  and  yell,  in  the  horrid  work  of  mu- 
tual slaughter. 

And  when  one  of  the  wretched  parties,  nearly 
consumed  by  the  sword,  and  unable  to  resist  any 
longer,  cry  for  quarters,  they  cry  in  vain. 

The  furious  conquerors  feel  not  the  touch  of  pity ; 
but,  regardless  of  uplifted  hands  and  prayers,  continue 
their  cruel  blows  till  all  is  hushed  in  death. 

This  is  the  horrid  fate  of  all  civil  wars.  The 
streets  of  ancient  Rome ;  the  fields  of  Culloden ;  the 
plains  of  modern  France ;  and  even  the  piney  woods 
of  Georgia  and  South  Carolina,  strewed  with  man- 
gled carcases,  all  give  awful  proof,  that  when  breth- 
ren turn  their  swords  into  each  other's  bowels,  war 
degenerates  into  murder,  and  battles  into  butcheries. 

Nor  can  even  the  grave  set  limits  to  their  rage ; 
but,  like  lions,  turning  from  the  mangled  dead,  they 
fly  for  new  game  to  the  living.  All  those,  who  by 
their  wealth  had  most  injured,  or  by  their  writings 
had  most  inflamed  them,  are  sure  to  be  the  victims 
of  their  vengeance.  Such  persons — as  was  the  case 
in  the  last  war,  between  the  whigs  and  lories  in  tne 
southern  states — have  been  dragged  out  of  their 
houses,  and,  amidst  the  screams  of  their  wives  and 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

chidren,  have  been  hung  up  on  the  trees,  or  cut  to 
pieces  with  swords  with  the  most  savage  joy ;  while 
their  furniture  has  been  plundered,  their  houses 
burnt,  their  cattle  and  slaves  carried  off,  and  their 
widows  and  children  driven  out,  crying,  and  without 
bread,  into  the  barren  woods. 

Nor  does  this  tragedy  (of  a  free  government  mad- 
ly  divided  and  destroying  itself)  terminate  here. 
Even  this,  as  Solomon  says,  is  but  their  "  way  to  hell 
and  their  going  down  by  the  chambers  of  death," 
(political  slavery.)  For  when  nations  thus  wickedly 
abuse  their  liberty,  God  will  take  it  away.  When 
they  will  not  live  in  peace,  out  of  virtuous  choice, 
they  shall  be  compelled  by  brutal  force. 

And  since  they  would  not  let  God  reign  over  them 
v  ^i  a  golden  sceptre  of  reason  and  equal  laws,  he 
will  set  a  master  over  them  with  a  scourge  of  scor- 
pions and  an  iron  rod :  some  proud  tyrant,  who,  look- 
ing on  our  country  but  as  his  estate,  and  ourselves 
as  his  cattle,  shall  waste  our  wealth  on  the  pomps  of 
his  court,  or  the  salaries  of  his  officers ;  destroy  our 
sons  in  his  ambitious  wars ;  and  beggar  us  with  ex- 
actions, as  long  as  his  ministers  can  invent  taxes,  or 
we,  by  hard  labour,  can  raise  money  to  pay  them. 

"  Then."  in  the  words  of  Washington,  "  what  a 
triumph  for  the  advocates  of  despotism,  to  find  that 
we  are  incapable  of  governing  ourselves ;  and  that 
systems  founded  on  equal  liberty  are  ideal  and  falla- 
cious !"  Then,  how  will  the  proud  sons  of  despotism 
shake  themselves  with  laughter  on  their  thrones; 
and  hell  itself,  responsive  to  their  joy,  clank  her  con- 
gratulating chains,  that  heaven  is  defeated,  and  the 
misery  of  man  is  sealed. 

But,  0  ye  favoured  countrymen  of  Washington ! 
your  republic  is  not  yet  lost ;  there  is  still  hope.  The 
arm  that  wrought  your  political  salvation,  is  still 
Mretched  out  to  save ;  then  hear  his  voice  and  live  ! 
Hear  the  voice  of  the  Divine  Founder  of  your  repub 
lie  :  "  Little  children,  love  one  another."  Hear  his 


240  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

voice  from  the  lips  of  his  servant  Washington 
"Above  all  things  hold  dear  your  national  union. 
Accustom  yourselves  to  estimate  its  immense,  its  in- 
finite value  to  your  individual  and  national  happiness 
Look  on  it  as  the  palladium  of  your  tranquillity  at 
home ;  of  your  peace  abroad  ;  of  your  safety ;  of 
your  prosperity  ;  and  even  of  that  very  liberty  which 
you  so  highly  prize !"  To  this  you  are  bound  br 
every  tie  of  gratitude  and  love  to  God  or  man.  1st. 
As  to  God,  no  people  more  than  you  can  be  bound 
to  adore  that  invisible  hand  which  rules  the  aftairs 
of  men.  'Twas  he  who  fought  your  battles,  and 
against  such  fearful  odds  established  your  indepen- 
dence ;  and  afterwards  disposed  your  hearts  for  the 
reception  of  a  general  and  equal  government.  And 
for  what  did  God  perform  all  these  miracles  for  you 
but  that  he  might  glorify  himself  in  your  protection 
and  happiness?  And  will  you  now  rise  up  with  joy 
to  co-operate  with  God  in  the  glorious  work  of  beau- 
tifying, with  the  fruits  of  righteousness,  this  goodly 
land,  which  he  has  so  honoured,  that  he  may  place 
his  own  great  name  therein  ? 

And  remember,  moreover,  my  countrymen,  that 
you  are  now  the  favoured  actors  on  a  most  conspicu- 
ous theatre  ;  a  theatre  which  seems  peculiarly 
designated  of  Heaven  for  the  display  of  human  great- 
ness and  felicity.  Far  from  the  furious  passions  and 
politics  of  Europe,  you  are  placed  here  by  yourselves, 
the  sole  proprietors  of  a  vast  region,  embracing  all 
the  soils  and  climates  of  the  earth,  and  abounding 
with  ail  the  conveniences  of  life.  And  Heaven  has 
crowned  all  its  blessings  by  giving  you  a  freer 
government  and  a  fairer  opportunity  for  political 
happiness  than  any  other  nation  was  ever  favoured 
with.  In  this  view,  citizens  of  the  United  States,  you 
are  certainly  responsible  for  the  highest  trust  ever 
confided  to  any  people.  The  eyes  of  long  oppressed 
humanity  are  now  looking  up  to  you  as  to  her  last 
hope ;  the  whole  world  are  anxious  spectators  of 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  24 

your  tnal ;  and  with  your  behaviour  at  this  crisis, 
not  only  your  own,  but  the  destiny  of  unborn  millions 
is  involved.  If,  now,  you  make  a  wise  use  of  the 
all  important  opportunity — if  your  free  constitution 
should  be  sacredly  maintained — if  honour,  if  patriot- 
ism, if  union,  and  brotherly  love  should  prevail,  with 
all  the  good  qualities  which  ennoble  the  character  of 
nations — then  the  victory  will  be  sure:  your  triumph 
will  be  complete :  and  the  pressure  of  the  present 
difficulties,  instead  of  weakening  will  give  a  firmer 
tone  to  the  federal  government,  that  shall  probably 
immortalize  the  blessings  of  LIBERTY  to  our  children 
and  children's  children. 

Then  rouse !  my  generous  countrymen,  rouse  ! 
and,  filled  with  the  awfulness  of  our  situation,  with 
the  glorious  spirit  of  '76,  rally  around  the  sacred 
standard  of  your  country.  As  good  children  give 
her  all  your  support.  Respect  her  authority ! — 
comply  with  her  laws  !  acquiesce  in  her  measures  ! 
Thus  cemented  by  love,  she  shall  become  like  the 
•uecious  wedge  of  Ophir  that  defies  the  furnace  ;  and 
loming  forth  from  the  fiery  trial  brighter  than  ever, 
she  shall  shed  on  the  cause  of  freedom,  a  dignity  and 
mstre  which  it  never  enjoyed  before;  a  lustre  which 
cannot  fail  to  have  a  favourable  influence  on  the 
rights  of  man.  Other  nations,  finding  from  your 
example,  that  men  are  capable  of  governing  them- 
selves, will  aspire  to  the  same  honour  and  felicity. 
Great  and  successful  struggles  will  be  made  for 
liberty.  Free  governments  (the  pure  mothers  of 
nations,)  will  at  length  be  established.  Honouring 
all  their  virtuous  children  alike,  jealousies  and  hatreds 
will  cease,  and  cordial  love  prevail,  inviting  the 
industry  of  all,  the  blessing  of  plenty  will  be  spread 
abroad,  and  shameless  thefts  be  done  away.  And 
wisdom  and  worth  (as  in  the  choice  of  a  free  people) 
being  called  to  high  places,  errors  will  '~>e  rare. 
Vices,  ashamed,  shall  hide  their  odious  heads, 
cruelties  sorm  abhorrent,  and  wars  unknown  Thus 
21  20 


842  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

step  by  step  progressing  in  virtue,  the  world  wiii 
ripen  for  glory,  till  the  great  hour  of  her  dissolution 
being  come,  the  ready  archangel  shall  lift  his  trum- 
pet, and  sound  her  knell.  The  last  refining  flames 
shall  then  kindle  on  this  tear-bathed,  blood-stained 
globe,  while  from  its  ashes  a  new  earth  shall  spring, 
far  happier  than  the  first.  There,  freed  from  all 
their  imperfections,  the  spirits  of  good  men,  (the  only 
true  patriots,)  shall  dwell  together,  and  spend  their 
ever  brightening  days  in  loves  and  joys  eternal. 

May  the  Great  Founder  of  your  holy  republic 
keep  you  all  under  his  divine  protection ;  incline 
your  hearts  to  cultivate  a  spirit  of  cheerful  subordi- 
nation to  government;  to  entertain  a  brotherly  affec- 
tion and  love  for  one  another ;  and  finally  dispose 
you  all  to  do  justice ;  to  love  mercy ;  and  to  demean 
yourselves  with  that  charity,  humility,  and  pacific 
temper  of  mind,  which  were  the  characteristics  of 
the  Divine  Author  of  our  blessed  religion ;  without 
an  humble  imitation  of  whose  example,  in  these 
things,  we  can  never  hope  to  be  a  great  and  happy 
nation." 


CONCLUSION. 
WASHINGTON'S 


FKW  great  men  are  great  in  every  thing.  But  in 
the  last  testament  of  this  extraordinary  American, 
we  see  some  things  altogether  characteristic. 

When  Benedict  Arnold  came  to  die,  he  said  —  "  I 
bequeath  my  soul  to  God." 

When  Henry  Laurens,  president  of  the  first  con 
gress,  came  to  die,  he  said,  "  My  flesh  is  too  good  for 
worms  :  I  give  it  to  the  flames  ;"  which  was  done. 

But  Washington  makes  no  preamble  about  his 
s>oul  or  body.  As  to  his  soul,  having  made  it  his 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  243 

great  business  to  re-instamp  on  it  the  image  of  God, 
he  doubted  not  but  it  would  be  remembered,  when 
Carist  should  come  "to  make  up  his  jewels." 

And  as  to  his  body,  that  admirable  piece  of  divina 
mechanism,  so  long  the  honoured  servant  of  duty  tfl 
his  God  and  his  country,  he  trusted,  that,  though 
"  sown  in  dishonour,  it  would  one  day  be  raised  in 
glory  ;"  so  leaving  it  to  rest  in  hope,  he  proceeds  to 
the  following  distribution  of  his  worldly  goods  : 

1st.  Though  an  old  husband  of  68,  yet,  with  the 
gallantry  and  warm  affection  of  a  young  groom,  he 
gives  the  whole  of  his  estate  (530,000  dollars)  to  his 
beloved  wife  Martha. 

2d.  Like  a  pure  republican,  he  orders  all  his  slaves 
to  be  liberated,  at  certain  ages,  on  his  wife's  death — 
lamenting,  that  from  obstacles  insurmountable,  he 
could  not  have  done  it  earlier 

3d.  He  confirms  his  former  donations,  viz.  4000 
dollars  to  a  charity  school  in  the  town  of  Alexandria  ; 
lu,000  dollars  to  Liberty  Hall  Academy,  Rockbridge 
county,  Virginia ;  and  20,000  dollars  to  a  national 
university,  to  be  founded  in  Washington  ;  with  this 
remark:  "It  has  always  been  a  source  of  serious 
regret  with  me,  to  see  the  youth  of  these  United 
States  sent  to  foreign  countries  for  education,  often 
before  their  minds  were  formed,  or  they  had  imbibed 
just  ideas  of  the  happiness  of  their  own;  contracting 
too  frequently,  not  only  habits  of  dissipation  and 
extravagance,  but  principles  unfriendly  to  republican 
government,  and  to  the  true  and  genuine  liberties  of 
mankind. 

«  For  these  reasons,  it  has  been  my  ardent  wish  to 
see  a  university  in  a  central  part  of  the  union,  to 
which  the  youth  of  fortune  and  talents,  from  all  parts 
thereof,  may  be  sent  for  the  completion  of  their 
education  in  all  the  branches  of  polite  and  useful 
learning,  and  especially  of  politics  and  good  govern- 
ment ;  and  also  that,  by  associating  with  each  other, 
and  forming  friendships  in  early  life,  they  may  be 


244  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

enabled  to  free  themselves  from  those  local  preju 
dices  and  state  jealousies,  which  are  never-failing 
sources  of  disquietude  to  the  public  mind,  and  preg- 
nant with  mischievous  consequences  to  this  country." 
4th.  Having  no  children,  he  bequeaths  the  whole 
of  his  estate,  a  few  legacies  excepted,to  the  children, 
23  in  number,  of  his  brothers  and  sister ;  and,  like  a 
generous  and  affectionate  relative,  he  gave  to  the 
children  of  his  half  brother,  Augustin,  equally  as  to 
those  of  his  own  brothers.  And,  'tis  a  most  pleasing 
fact,  he  gave  to  his  wife's  grand-children  in  like 
liberal  measure  with  his  own  nieces  and  nephews  ! 
the  part  given  to  each  has  been  computed  at  20;"KM) 
dollars. 


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ence."— London  Athentr.um. 

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is  a  deep  and  strong  current  of  religion* 
feeling  throughout  the  story,  not  a 
prosy,  unattractive  lecturing  upcn  re- 
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earnest  life  is  depicted,  full  of  hop* 
and  longing,  and  of  happy  fruition. 
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perfect  ease  and  grace  into  our  own 
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novels    have    received    more    general 


Girl ;'  and  '  Why  Did  He  Not 
possesses  in  at  least  an  equal  degree 
all  the  elements  of  popularity.  Froni 
the  beginning  to  the  end  the  interest 
never  flags,  and  the  characters  a  id 
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Aytoun.     A  Romance.     By  Emily  T.  Read. 


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ship  of  which  none  need  be  ashamed, 
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of  becoming  too  abundant" — fiff  • 


41  In  point  of  variety  and  general 
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The  Life  of  Charles  Dickens.     By  John  Forster, 

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The  History  of  Charles  the  Bold,  Duke  of  Bur- 

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accustom*"!  to  bring  his  mind  to  con- 
sider men  and  things,  not  merely  as 


they  have  been  written  about,  but  a* 
they  actually  were,  in  the  variety  and 
complexity  of  their  real  existence.  .  .  . 
His  imagination  is  active  and  impres- 
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pressive history,  the  glee  and  the  mix- 
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and  grim  hatred  in  Louis,  the  sinking 
deeper  and  deeper  into  confusion  and 
hopelessness  of  his  doomed  antagonist, 
the  horrors  of  the  Swiss  victories, — are 
powerfully  told.  Perhaps  Mr.  Kirk 
allows  himself  sometimes  to  be  carried 
away  beyond  the  gravity  of  the  histor- 
ian into  the  sentiment  and  passion 
which  properly  belong  to  tragedy. 
But  he  may  plead  an  excuse  in  the 
awful  character  of  what  he  relates,  and 
in  his  thorough  comprehension  of  its 
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solemn  and  affecting  vicissitudes.  To 
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Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  Services  of  the  Right 

Reverend  ALONZO  POTTER,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  Bishop  of  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  Diocese  of  Pennsyl- 
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Luke's  Church,  Philadelphia.  Crown  8vo.  Toned  paper. 
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noble  monument  to  one  of  the  noblest 


men  who  has  ever  had  his  life  cast  io 
this  community,  and  whose  memory  it 
still  held  in  grateful  esteem  by  thou- 
sands outside  the  pale  of  his  ow» 
church."— Philadelphia  ff-venitif  Bul- 
letin. 


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The  Life  of  Henry  John  Temple,  Lord  Palmerston 

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LIPPnrOOTTS  PRONOUNCING  DICTIONARY 

OF 

BIOGRAPHY  AND  MYTHOLOGY. 

CONTAINING 

MEMOIRS  OF  THE  EMINENT  PERSONS  OF  ALL  AGES  AND 
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"  It  is  hardly  possible  to  overesti- 
mate the  detail,  comprehensiveness 
and  eclecticism  of  Dr.  Thomas'  labors. 
His  field  is  the  world,  bis  epoch  all 
past  time."  —  Philadelphia  North 
A  tnerican. 

"  I  find  that  my  high  expectations 
of  its  excellence,  founded  on  my  know- 
ledge of  the  admirable  qualifications 
of  its  editor,  are  not  disappointed.  In 
the  judicious  brevity  of  its  articles,  the 
comprehensiveness  of  its  selections  of 
topics,  the  nice  exactness  in  matteis  of 
orthography  and  pronunciation,  as 
well  as  for  its  admirable  typography,  it 
promises  to  take  a  very  high  place 
among  our  books  of  reference." — Pro- 
fessor Noah  Potter. 

"  It  is  universal  in  facts  as  in  name, 
doingf  like  justice  to  men  prominent 
in  science,  literature,  religion,  general 
history,  etc.  The  author  knows  how 
to  put  a  large  number  of  facts  into  a 
very  small  compass,  and  in  a  manner 
remarkable  for  system,  fairness,  pre- 
cision and  easy  diction." — Professor 
James  D.  Dana,  M.A.,  LL.D. 


y  n  3  1999R 
RBTD  L8-UR» 


"007886061 


UC  SOUTHERN  ^^SgL^nnSliiiftmyjJill 

AA    000806783    7 


